#‘I’m trying something new so please do this and this and we’ll see how it goes?’

[theonottsbxtch]

99 PROBLEMS | MV1

an: this is literally a crack fic, i had the idea when i was listening to 99 problems by jay-z and i was talking to @iamred-iamyellow please enjoy

summary: max never expected to one day have a 17 year old son. he didn't know he was a father. but now he's got to try and figure out how this nerd is his son. and also teach him how to live a little.

wc: 3.3k

Max never thought he’d be a single dad to a teenage boy, but shit happens.

One minute, he was in Monaco celebrating another podium win, champagne-soaked and grinning for the cameras. The next, there was a seventeen-year-old with his eyes and an attitude to match standing on his doorstep with a duffel bag. His name was Noah—“not ‘Dad,’ just Max”—and he wasn’t here to bond. No, Noah was here because apparently the universe thought karma would be funnier this way.

Max was on the balcony of his Monaco apartment replying to a few emails, the city’s lights flickering like a postcard behind him. He could hear Noah inside, rifling through the fridge, muttering complaints about the lack of “real food.”

“Hey, don’t knock the caviar!” Max called over his shoulder. “It’s got protein!”

“Caviar’s not dinner!” Noah fired back, slamming the fridge door.

Max smirked, chuckling a bit. The kid had a point. The life of a Formula One champion didn’t exactly prepare him for raising a teenager. Most days, it was all jet-setting, high-end sponsorships, and a new girl on his arm by sundown. It was messy, but it was his kind of messy. Now? Now, he had to figure out how to squeeze fatherhood in between the chaos.

“You seriously live like this?” Noah asked, stepping onto the balcony, holding up one of Max’s custom helmets. His tone wasn’t admiration—it was judgement.

“Like what?” Max said, not looking up from his phone.

“You know, like...this. Cars, women, parties. I mean, isn’t it exhausting?”

Max chuckled low, pocketing his phone. “Don’t have time to be tired.”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “Right. So, uh...where do I fit in this circus?”

Max turned, his smirk fading just enough to let a flicker of honesty show. “Haven’t figured that out yet. But we’ll make it work.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Max glanced back at the city below. “Now, go grab a drink or something. Just...not the champagne.”

And that’s how it started: the driver, his kid, and a life moving faster than either of them could control.

Max hadn’t had a conventional childhood and he could tell this kid did, well as conventional as it was to be dropped off at your dad who you’ve never met’s house a few weeks before your 18th birthday.

He thought that maybe while he was here he could teach him a few things, take him to a few races or something. 

Max didn’t really know what to do.

The private gym was tucked into the corner of Max’s penthouse, all sleek machines and floor-to-ceiling mirrors. It was rarely used. Most of Max’s training happened at the Headquarters. or with his team, but Noah had been dragging his feet around the apartment all week, so Max figured a little sweat might do them both some good.

“Alright, kid,” Max said, tossing a pair of dumbbells onto the mat. “Let’s see if you’ve got anything in the tank. Ever lifted before?”

“Sure,” Noah replied, unimpressed. He sat down on the bench press, giving the machine a once-over like he was deciding whether or not to trust it.

Max crossed his arms, watching as Noah pushed through a few hesitant reps. “Not bad. But if that’s your warm-up, we’re in trouble.”

Noah glared, setting the weights down with a clink. “Not all of us need muscles for a living.”

Max laughed. “Touch��. So, what do you do for fun then?”

“Fun?”

“Yeah, fun. You know, like hobbies, friends, maybe a girlfriend?”

Noah shrugged, grabbing a water bottle. “Not much. I play some video games, read, I guess. Nothing crazy.”

“Read?” Max frowned. “What, no parties? No sneaking out? You don’t go out?”

“Go out where?” Noah’s voice had that dry teenage edge to it. “I’m seventeen. I lived in America my whole life. You can’t even get into a bar without a fake ID there.”

Max froze mid-stretch, eyebrows shooting up. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me you’ve never had a drink?”

Noah gave him a look like he’d just asked if the sky was blue. “No?”

Max stared at him, dumbfounded. “God. If only you knew what I was doing at your age when my dad had his back turned.”

Noah rolled his eyes. “Oh, let me guess. Clubbing in Paris. Drinking champagne with supermodels. Living the dream?”

“Belgium, but close,” Max said, leaning against the bench press. “Keg parties in the back of some guy’s trailer in Hasselt. Terrible beer, worse decisions, and my trainer yelling at me the next morning. Still, though. I can’t believe you’re seventeen and haven’t even had a sip.”

“I mean, it’s not a big deal,” Noah muttered.

“Not a big deal?” Max barked out a laugh. “Mate, by seventeen, I’d already figured out my go-to drink order. Vodka tonic. Not classy, but it got the job done.” He leaned in, his grin borderline mischievous. “We’ve got some work to do.”

Noah held up his hands, shaking his head. “Oh no. You’re not turning this into some wild ‘how to live’ project.”

Max raised his eyebrows, mock-innocent. “Hey, I’m just saying. Gotta live a little.”

“Maybe I don’t want to end up like you,” Noah shot back.

Max laughed again, but this time it came quieter, almost thoughtful. “Trust me, buddy. Nobody ends up like me. Now, come on. Two more sets, and then I’ll show you how to make a proper protein shake. Don’t worry—I won’t spike it.”

Noah snorted, shaking his head as he got back to work. It was just another morning, another disagreement, but Max couldn’t help feeling like they were inching closer to something real. Something like family.

By the end of the week, Noah was starting to think his dad was running some kind of unofficial competition.

On Monday, it was Marie. She was Monegasque, blonde, and talked like she was auditioning for a perfume ad. “Bonjour, mon cher,” she’d purred at Noah, ruffling his hair like he was ten. Max had barely noticed her leave, too busy scrolling his phone for his next big sponsorship deal.

Tuesday brought Yasmin, a Brazilian model who walked around the apartment in Max’s oversized shirt, pretending not to notice Noah glaring at her from the couch. She’d tried to make conversation, something about school and books, but Noah had just shrugged until she gave up.

By Wednesday, it was Clara, who had an annoying laugh and kept calling Max “babe” like they’d been married for years.

Thursday was a whirlwind—two girls, both of whom Max forgot to introduce. One of them waved awkwardly at Noah as they left, heels clicking on the tile floor.

By Friday, Noah wasn’t even fazed. He sat at the kitchen counter, eating cereal while Max brewed coffee, shirtless and looking entirely too smug for a guy running on five hours of sleep.

“How?” Noah finally said, his spoon clinking against the bowl.

Max glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “How what?”

“You know.” Noah waved vaguely toward the hallway where yet another pair of heels had disappeared moments ago. “Them. How do you...?”

Max chuckled, shaking his head as he poured his coffee. “Not that complicated.” He took a sip, leaning against the counter like he was about to deliver some ancient wisdom. “They like fast cars and big dreams. I’ve got both.”

Noah squinted at him. “Yeah, but don’t they know what they’re getting into? Like...you’re not exactly giving ‘dad of the year’ vibes.”

Max laughed, the sound echoing through the kitchen. “Oh, they know. Trust me, they all think they’re the one who’s gonna ‘change me.’” He set his mug down, smirking. “Spoiler alert: they’re not.”

Noah frowned, stirring his cereal. “Doesn’t it get old?”

“What?”

“The whole thing. Girls coming and going. Don’t you ever want...I don’t know, something normal?”

Max tilted his head, studying him for a second. “Normal’s overrated. Besides, why are you so interested? You got someone back in the States?”

Noah snorted. “No. Not unless you count my English teacher who used to give me extra credit just to stop talking in class.”

Max grinned, pushing off the counter. “Smart kid. Learn from me, though—don’t waste your charm on teachers. Save it for someone who can actually keep up.”

Noah rolled his eyes, standing up to put his bowl in the sink. “You’re insane.”

“And yet,” Max said, raising his coffee in a mock toast, “I’m still your dad. Crazy how that works.”

Noah shook his head, walking out of the kitchen. But as he headed toward his room, he caught himself smirking. Max was a mess—there was no denying that. But, annoyingly, there was something kind of fascinating about watching him pull it off.

He had to give him some respect. Three time world champion but he lived his life like an unbothered bachelor that didn’t have a multi-million contract under his belt.

Two days later, Max was standing in front of his wardrobe, trying to decide between a black shirt and a white graphic tee. He ended up tossing the black top onto the bed, shrugging into the white tee. His phone buzzed on the nightstand—a message from the group chat reminding him that their table was already reserved at Jimmy’s.

Max grabbed his watch and headed toward the living room, adjusting it as he walked. Noah was sprawled on the couch, scrolling his phone with the kind of disinterested focus only teenagers could pull off.

“You wanna come?” Max asked casually, pulling his car keys from the counter.

Noah didn’t even look up. “I’m seventeen.”

Max leaned against the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And I’m Max Verstappen.”

Noah gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah, that’s not how laws work.”

Max stepped into the room, tossing his keys in the air and catching them with one hand. “Relax, kid. You’re with me. No one’s checking your ID.” He raised an eyebrow, adding, “Unless you want to stay here and eat more cereal while I’m out having the time of my life.”

Noah hesitated, sitting up slightly. “What, and hang out with you and your harem of club girls? Hard pass.”

Max grinned, crossing his arms. “It’s not just girls. My friends will be there. Good music, good drinks, a little chaos. You could use some chaos.”

Noah snorted. “I don’t think I fit your ‘chaos’ aesthetic.”

Max walked over and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “That’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to fit. You just show up, keep your head up, and let the good times come to you. Trust me, kid—it’s not rocket science.”

Noah looked at him, torn between scepticism and curiosity. “And if I hate it?”

“Then you call it a night, and we’ll come back. No harm, no foul.” Max shrugged. “But at least you’ll know what you’re missing.”

Noah sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if anyone tries to buy me a drink, I’m out.”

“Deal.” Max grinned, slapping him on the back. “Now, go change. You’re not wearing that.” He gestured vaguely at Noah’s hoodie and sweatpants.

“What’s wrong with this?”

“It’s not wrong; it’s tragic. Go put on something that says, ‘I’m seventeen, but I could still be cooler than you.’”

Noah rolled his eyes but got up and headed toward his room. Max leaned back against the couch, chuckling to himself. This was either going to be a disaster or the most fun he’d had in weeks.

Fifteen minutes later, Noah emerged in dark jeans and a plain black t-shirt. It wasn’t flashy, but it worked.

Max whistled. “There you go. Almost looks like you know what you’re doing.”

“Don’t push it,” Noah muttered, grabbing his jacket.

“Alright, kid,” Max said, swinging an arm around his shoulders as they headed for the elevator. “Welcome to the good life. Try to keep up.”

Jimmy’z was everything Noah expected and nothing he was prepared for. The place was loud, packed, and drenched in neon lights that pulsed to the bass of some remix he didn’t recognise. Max walked in like he owned it, breezing past the bouncers and slapping hands with a few familiar faces on his way to their table.

The VIP section was cordoned off with velvet ropes and framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the city. A couple of Max’s friends were already there, leaning back with drinks in hand, laughing at some story one of them was telling.

Max clapped a hand on Lando's shoulder, said something about ordering another round, and then turned to Noah with a grin. “Alright, kid. First drink’s on me.”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to drink?” Noah muttered, looking around nervously.

“You’re not supposed to get caught drinking,” Max corrected, flagging down a waitress. “Two rum and cokes. Easy on the rum for him,” he added with a wink.

Noah sat awkwardly, trying to ignore the curious glances from Max’s friends. When the drinks came, Max slid one across the table. “Here. Cheers.”

Noah picked up the glass and took a cautious sip, immediately grimacing. “This tastes like gasoline.”

Max burst out laughing, nearly spilling his own drink. “Yeah, it’s not exactly a milkshake, but you’ll get used to it.”

Noah frowned but kept sipping, each drink slightly less terrible than the last. By the time the glass was empty, he didn’t hate it—but he definitely wasn’t in a hurry for another.

“Alright,” Max said, leaning back and draping an arm over the back of the booth. “Time for your next lesson.”

“Lesson?”

“Yeah.” Max grinned, nodding toward the dance floor where a group of girls was laughing and swaying to the music. “How to get a girl.”

Noah blinked at him. “I’m seventeen.”

“And you’re eighteen in three weeks,” Max shot back, smirking.

Noah raised an eyebrow. “How do you even know that?”

Max sipped his drink, looking almost offended. “I pay attention. I’m not that bad of a father, you know.”

Noah snorted. “Debatable.”

“Hey, come on,” Max said, leaning forward and pointing at him with his glass. “I’ve got three weeks to turn you into someone who doesn’t spend prom night sitting in the corner playing Angry Birds. Let me work my magic.”

“I didn’t go to prom,” Noah mumbled.

“Exactly my point.” Max gestured to the dance floor. “Now, watch and learn.”

Noah shook his head, but he couldn’t help smirking. Watching Max in his element was like watching a lion stalk the savanna. Ridiculous, over-the-top, and somehow annoyingly effective.

Noah leaned back in the plush booth, his gaze flicking nervously between the drink in his hand and the dance floor. “This feels illegal,” he muttered under his breath.

Max, already halfway through his second rum and coke, let out a loud laugh that turned a few heads. “Illegal? We’re in Monaco.” He gestured broadly at the glittering club around them, as if the name alone erased all laws. “The girls here don’t care how old you are, as long as you’re pretty enough.”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “And what if I’m not?”

Max leaned forward, smirking. “You’re my son, so of course you are. Trust me, kid, you’ve got the genes. Now, you just need the confidence to back it up.”

Noah rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the faint flush creeping up his neck. “Yeah, sure. Because confidence is something you can just magically summon.”

“Exactly,” Max said, snapping his fingers like it was that simple. “It’s all in the attitude. Look, you don’t need to be the smartest or the funniest guy in the room. You just need to act like you know something they don’t. Makes them curious. Curiosity’s half the battle.”

Noah stared at him, unimpressed. “That’s the dumbest advice I’ve ever heard.”

Max grinned, sitting back and gesturing to the waitress for another round. “And yet, here I am. Multi-millionaire. World champion. Living proof it works.”

“Yeah, but you’re—” Noah hesitated, then gestured vaguely at Max’s whole presence. “You.”

“Exactly. And you’re half me. Which means you’ve already got a head start.” Max leaned in, lowering his voice like he was letting Noah in on a secret. “Here’s the trick: don’t overthink it. If you go out there looking like you’ve got something to prove, you’ll scare ‘em off. Just...be cool.”

“Cool,” Noah repeated, deadpan. “Got it. Thanks for the groundbreaking advice.”

Max smirked, pushing his chair back and standing up. “Fine. Don’t believe me. But if I come back with two numbers before you even finish that drink, you’re buying me breakfast tomorrow.”

Noah shook his head as Max strolled off toward the dance floor, impossibly confident and infuriatingly charismatic. It was hard not to admire it, even if it made him feel like an awkward kid in comparison.

He stared down at his empty glass, debating whether to order another drink or just leave, when a girl about his age walked past and glanced his way. She gave him a small smile, and Noah froze, his heart racing.

Max’s words echoed in his head. “Just act like you know something they don’t.”

Noah took a deep breath, set his empty glass on the table, and stood up. His palms felt clammy, and every nerve in his body screamed at him to sit back down. But then he caught Max watching from the floor with an infuriating smirk before turning to whichever woman he was talking to this time.

Don’t overthink it, Noah reminded himself. Just be cool.

The girl was standing near the edge of the dance floor with a friend, laughing at something on her phone. She looked up as he approached, her eyes flicking over him in curiosity.

“Hey,” Noah said, trying to sound casual. “You looked like you needed saving from a bad joke.”

She raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And you’re the knight in shining armour?”

“Something like that,” Noah said, stuffing his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting. “Or at least I’m not the guy who made you laugh like that.”

Her smile widened, and her friend nudged her playfully before disappearing toward the bar. “Smooth,” she said, tilting her head. “Do you use that line often?”

“First time, actually,” Noah admitted, his lips twitching into a nervous grin.

The honesty seemed to win her over. They started talking—light, easy banter—and before Noah knew it, she was laughing at something he’d said about his dad being a “professional bad influence.”

From the booth, Max had a clear view of the whole thing. He nudged Lando, grinning like a proud idiot. “Lan, look!” He pointed toward the dance floor. “The son of a bitch did it!”

Lando squinted, then let out a low whistle. “Damn. Didn’t think he had it in him.”

Max chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. “He’s my kid. Of course he’s got it in him.”

Noah returned to the table a while later, looking flushed and slightly dishevelled. His lips were swollen, and there was a faint lipstick smudge on his cheek.

Max raised his glass in a mock toast. “Atta boy!”

Noah slid into the booth, trying to suppress a grin. “Don’t make it a thing.”

“Oh, it’s already a thing,” Max said, slapping him on the back. “You’re officially part of the club now.”

Lando smirked. “Better keep an eye on him, Max. He’s almost got more potential than you.”

“Potential? He’s a damn prodigy,” Max joked, laughing. “First drink, first girl, all in one night. Kid’s got a better batting average than I did at his age.”

Noah rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help smiling. As much as his dad’s teasing drove him crazy, there was something undeniably cool about seeing Max so proud.

“Alright,” Max said, clapping his hands together. “Now that you’ve got your feet wet, let’s see if you can do it again.”

Noah shook his head, laughing. “Not a chance. One’s enough for tonight.”

“Fair enough,” Max said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “But just so you know—you’ve officially graduated from boring.”

For once, Noah didn’t argue.

the end.

[thegoogoomuckkk]

Will you be doing more the Club series? I miss it so much, I can’t wait for more it’s so hot.

club -> businessman -> nanami isn't exactly what you expected out of your third client. . .but that doesn't mean you're complaining

the time for being nervous had long since passed. any reservations you had about sleeping with the world’s strongest sorcerers had been shoved down deep inside; there wasn’t any time for that. between dancing at the club as usual & your nights spent with scheduled clients, there was hardly any time to spend with your thoughts, & maybe that was a good thing. there was time, however, to tear shiu a new asshole. 

“listen, they’ve already paid, doll. ain’t anything I can do about it now. besides, you’re always telling me I don’t pay you enough. I’m paying you plenty, now, aren’t I?”

“oh please, your cheap ass still isn’t paying me enough. they’re paying me,” you murmur, & he’s rolls his eyes. 

“you’re gettin’ paid, yeah? that’s all that matters. now was there something you needed, or do you just like to waste my time?”

“both,” you sneer, leaning over his desk, palms flat against the cheap mahogany. cheap, that was a good word to describe him. “who’s my sunday appointment?” 

his smile makes you violent. “can’t tell you that. just that he’s paid a shit ton for your appointment.”

“so when he murders me, you gonna sprinkle that cash over my grave?”

“he’s not gonna murder you, drama queen. I checked him out, he’s clean as can be.”

you left his office with more questions than answers. shiu knew who it was, but he wouldn’t tell you. 4 whole hours to a random stranger. you couldn’t dwell on it too long, you had a schedule to keep, & apparently so did your client. 10:15pm sharp.

this was gonna be easy-peasy, you thought, pulling the door open to the club. tonight worried you the least out of any of your appointments. a blowjob was the most mundane thing a man could’ve asked you for. 

you were sitting on the edge of the bed, cool & smooth, when the door swung open at 10:14pm. holy motherfucking shit. kento nanami was probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen. you were ready for him to grab you by the scalp & force his cock down your throat. in fact, you weren’t just ready for it, you wanted it. giving this fine piece a blowjob was going to be your pleasure. 

“hello.”

you bit back a laugh. “hi.” you surveyed him further, attempting to look past the face & muscles—as hard as it was—suit & tie, silver rolex, thinly-framed glasses. everything about him was arousing, you were having a hard time containing yourself. 

“so, it said ‘oral sex’ on your file,” you say matter-of-factly. there was no easy way to segue into these kinds of situations, but nanami seemed like a matter-of-fact kind of guy. & you liked that. 

"that's correct," nanami replied, his voice deep & smooth. he loosened his tie slightly as he approached you, his gaze intense behind those thin frames. "but I'd like to clarify something first."

“oh?” 

he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, & god, even that was hot. "I know that I…paid for your…services,” he clears his throat. & you can see it in his eyes, though they’re averted from yours. he’s embarrassed. good. “but I’m not interested in doing anything that you’re not explicitly comfortable with. so if, at any point, you’re not—comfortable, that is—then we’ll stop. is that clear?” 

you nod, thoughts too jumbled to say anything. but he doesn’t like that. maybe he doesn’t argue, but you can tell, he wants your verbal consent. “yes, nanami. it’s clear,” you try to tease, to be flirty, to be anything but disturbed by how hot this guy was. the pictures don’t do him justice. 

“good.” 

he eyes you like a predator as you stand up from your seated position & take a couple steps toward him. you subtly gesture for him to sit, but he gives you a confused look. “wouldn’t you rather lie down?” 

you snort. “lie down to suck your dick?” you give him the same confused, questioning gaze. "I guess if that’s how you want it.” 

a soft smile touches his lips. “pardon me, but I think you read my request wrong,” he says. “or at least, misinterpreted what I meant. I don’t play on letting you…” he doesn’t even think he can say it, but finally he spits out: “suck my dick,” in a hushed, humiliated tone. “by oral sex, I meant, giving.” 

“oh.” 

“yes, oh.” 

you retreat back to where you were sitting, the backs of your knees bumping against the bed. yes, per your request, shiu had finally moved you to a room with a bed. he follows your movements, both with his eyes & body. 

you were. . .what was this feeling? nervous? excited? no, confused. this man was paying to eat you out. it would be physically impossible for him to be more attractive. but. . .why? why couldn’t he get a girlfriend to do this with? you can’t imagine what straight woman wouldn’t want that.

“may I kiss you?” he accepts your nod this time, & leans down to press his lips against yours. he was so big & tall. he commanded your space, forced his way into it until all you could comprehend was the presence of him. his lips on yours, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip, his hands finding their grip on your waist. you let him push you both back, until you're flush with the bed, head softly rested on the pillows, his knee on the cheap comforter in between your thighs. 

your breath catches in your throat as nanami hovers over you, his eyes dark with desire. he pulls back slightly, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. "Is this alright?" he asks, his voice low & husky.

you nod eagerly, then remember his preference for verbal consent. "yes," you breathe. "more than alright."

a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he leans in again, this time trailing kisses along your neck. his hands move to push up your shirt, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. you arch into him, desperate for more contact.

nanami takes his time, methodically undressing you between kisses & caresses. his touch is reverent, almost worshipful, as he explores every inch of newly exposed skin. his gaze roams over your body, appreciation evident in his eyes. "beautiful," he murmurs, & a small wire snaps in your stomach. this was not a regular session; you didn’t have this kind of sex with…anyone, really, but especially not club patrons. in fact, you can’t remember a time in which a customer went down on you, ever. & more concerning was: you wanted him to, despite how…personal it was. 

 you squirm beneath him, desperate for more. "patience," he murmurs against your collarbone, & you’re sure the deep bass of his voice vibrates straight to your cunt. he trails his lips down your neck, between your breasts, & he seems fixated there for a while, mouth wrapped around the soft skin, sucking the nipple, his other palming your breast, & you let out a breathless whine. he slides his fingers down to your underwear, pressing the pads of them firmly against the soft fabric covering your clit. he rubs soft & slow, & you’re so deeply concerned by how good it feels. needless to say, this is not what you were expecting. finally, he allows himself to bring his lips down to your panties, licking the already wet spot covering the front of them. he hooks his fingers through the material around your hips, slowly pulling them down. 

your breath catches as the cool air hits your exposed skin. he lets out a low groan at the sight of you, vulnerable & wanting. his warm breath ghosts over your inner thighs as he moves closer, planting soft kisses along sensitive skin. you shiver in anticipation, hands fisting in the sheets.

he teases you mercilessly, lips & tongue exploring everywhere but where you need him most. just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally, finally drags his tongue along your slick folds. you cry out, hips bucking involuntarily. he holds you steady with strong hands on your thighs as he works you over with his mouth, alternating between broad strokes & focused attention on your clit. his strong hands grip your thighs, holding you open for him. the pleasure builds steadily as he works you with his tongue, fucking it in & out of you, nose bumping against your clit. & when he decides that’s just not quite enough, he presses one finger softly in & out of your dripping hole. never pushing it all the way in ‘cause he doesn’t want to hurt you. 

your body tenses as the sensation builds to an almost unbearable intensity. with a muffled cry, you tumble over the edge into blissful release. waves of pleasure crash over you as your muscles clench rhythmically around his fingers. he doesn't let up, working you through each aftershock until you're gasping & oversensitive.

only then does he slowly withdraw his fingers & place a gentle kiss on your inner thigh. you lie there panting, feeling boneless & sated.

but he’s not done, you realize, hiking your thighs over his shoulders, burying his face into your cunt again. you’ve barely had time to recover & he’s starting his ministrations again, this time harder & faster, & you writhe in his grip, mewling & whimpering about it’s “t-too much, can’t-can’t take it.” 

your brain goes soft & fuzzy when he says, “you can take it, m’gonna give it to you.” you’re sure no one has ever taken more pleasure out of giving oral sex than nanami is right now. 

his tongue swirls relentlessly, finding every sensitive spot as if he's memorized your body. you arch your back, fingers tangling in his hair as waves of sensation crash over you. it's overwhelming, almost painful in its intensity, but you can't bring yourself to push him away.

"that's it," he murmurs against your flesh, the vibrations making you shudder. 

you're trembling, teetering on the edge of overstimulation. but nanami is relentless, his strong hands gripping your thighs to keep you spread open for him. you're making sounds you've never heard yourself make before—desperate, needy whimpers punctuated by breathless gasps.

just when you think you can't take anymore, he sucks hard on your clit & you shatter. your second orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, & you’re seeing spots, tugging painfully on his hair, nails raking against his spiky undercut, & he’s moaning into your cunt. if you were anywhere near coherency right now, you’d notice him pathetically humping against the mattress, mindlessly, too focused on your pretty pussy to actually get off. 

“nanami,” you whine. he looks up at you with hooded eyes, covered by his lashes. 

“did you want to stop?” 

"I-i–no, I just—you don’t have to do that anymore, not if you don’t want to.” it’s hard to say anything, to think after having his mouth on you, his tongue in you. but you do your best, try to sit up on your elbows .”we can do s-someth—”

"I'd like to continue doing this.” it’s so direct, so stern, but pleading also. "If you’re alright with that.” 

you can’t help but nod along, brain soft, thoughts gone. "y-yes," you manage to stammer out, your voice barely above a whisper. "please."

nanami's eyes flash with something intense, a mix of desire & determination. without another word, he lowers his head again, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. you shiver in anticipation, your body already yearning for his touch.

his tongue resumes its exploration, slow & deliberate at first, then growing more insistent. you fall back onto the bed, unable to support yourself any longer. your fingers tangle in his hair, not guiding, just needing something to hold onto as waves of pleasure wash over you. 

you can’t fathom what this could possibly be doing for him, but it’s obvious that he’s enjoying this in some perverse way; not that you were complaining. you lost track of how many times you came on his tongue, but a soft alarm went off in your soft, pliant head after a while. it had been a lot longer than an hour & a half. but with how good he made you feel, you didn’t think charging him was fair. 

regardless of how you felt, the next day, there was far more money than shiu had charged him & a bouquet of roses on your makeup table. all the girls ooh’ed & ahh’ed at it when you walked in. everyone wanted to see, but you kept the little note to yourself. it was thick cardstock paper that somehow smelt like his cologne. 

"I know roses are cliche, but I didn’t know what you liked. after last night, I'd love to know what else you like.”

crazy that you sent this, anon, because I literally woke up this morning wondering why I never finished this series?? I'm on it 🫡 did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it

[sturniolocafe]

star shopping

summary: making music has been chris' passion for years, but is that passion enough to keep you to stay? (based off star shopping by lil peep) pairing: rapper!chris x feminine!reader warnings: angst, talks of depression, weed use, arguing a note from lilah 𐙚: hey so i'm sorry for this. (lowercase intended!)

chris sighed, throwing a green celtics cap over his hair and sliding on his sneakers. he knew you were going to have something to say about this, but right now, he couldn’t risk the loss of this new beat. he’d been hitting a wall with making his beats fit his lyrics for weeks now, hence why he was getting ready to go meet with his producer at 11:30 pm, spurred on by the “dude, i swear to god i just hit the fucking jackpot” text.

you raised your brows as you stepped out of the bathroom, towel on your head and plush robe wrapped around your body. “where are you going?” you asked, watching as chris grabbed his wallet and keys. 

“they need me in the studio,” he mumbled. “i’ll be back in the morning.”

“whatever.” you hummed coolly, brushing past your boyfriend (if you could even call him that) to get to your vanity. 

“c’mon baby, don’t be mad. this is the one.” chris insisted, trying to smooth things over. 

“i’m not mad,” you said flatly, smoothing your moisturizer over your skin. “just go. i’ll probably be gone for work when you get back, so i’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

“baby,” chris practically begged, standing near your vanity, but not in your space so he didn’t upset you. “i know i fuck up. i know that i haven’t been a good boyfriend lately. i know you probably don’t want to end up with me, but i love you. you are so much more than gorgeous to me. i want to be with you for the rest of my life. please don’t doubt how much i love you.”

“chris, not tonight. just go.”

“i know i’m not worth your time right now; trust me, i know that. but i also know that i can work on it if you give me time. i can make this album and then we’ll be set, baby, i swear. just let me work on it.”

“you’ve been saying that.” you pointed out, trying to swallow the lump in your throat at the brunette’s words. 

“you’re losing your patience, and i don’t blame you.”

“chris!” you sighed, unintentionally slamming your eye cream down on the vanity. “i’ve been waiting for you to work on it for over two years. two whole rotations around the sun. i believe in you and i believe in your art, but i feel like i’m waiting for something that won’t come. it’s not paying our bills!

chris bit his lip, knowing you had a point. art couldn’t be rushed, but he had been in the process of writing this album for over two years, all while you single handedly paid the bills. the only time that the two of you truly had a connection was when you had sex. you’d look into chris’ deep blue eyes, allowing your hormones to take over and make you feel like maybe everything was okay, despite the fact that you two only had about one true conversation per week. 

“i know.” he mumbled quietly. 

“maybe,” your voice trembled as you began to argue. “maybe my friends are right. maybe i should break up with you. i can’t keep doing this, chris. i’ve worked my ass off to make sure we’re taken care of, and the way you pay me back is by leaving at almost midnight? seriously?”

“ma, you know i’m gonna make it happen one day,” chris pleaded. “as soon as this album comes out, i’m taking you overseas. we’ll go wherever you want, baby. we can smoke and stay in luxury hotels and-” chris was cut off when you interrupted him. 

“that’s what you want, chris. not me. i don’t give a fuck about weed or being overseas. all i want is for this, for us, to be a partnership.” you said, tears rolling down your cheeks. 

for some reason, despite what your instincts were telling you, you didn’t protest when chris pulled you into a hug, burying his nose in your freshly washed hair. “i’m sorry, baby. i know i’m nothing like what you or your family or anyone else wants me to be. but at the end of the day, i would give up my life for you. you’ve given up yours for me. you’ve taken care of me during my bad days, you’ve supported me through everything. i understand if you don’t want to anymore.”

“chris…” you croaked out, voice thick with tears. “i love you, i do love you. i just…miss you. i feel like you’re never home. i miss us.”

the brunette felt like he’d just received a blow to the gut. how could he have been so caught up in some dumb album that he had ignored the most important thing in his life? “i know, baby. i am so, so sorry. i…” chris pulled out his phone, fingers flying over the screen, before he shoved the device back into his pocket. “i’m yours for the rest of the night. shoutout to everyone making my beats, but you’re more important. music’s what helped me when i fell to pieces, so now it’s my turn to do that for you.”

you simply nodded into his chest, not quite forgiving him, but not having the chance to argue anymore either. you didn’t even protest under chris grabbed your hips, lifting you off the vanity stool and carrying you to the door that led from your master bedroom to the balcony of your chicago apartment. like any large city, lights were still aglow on the tall skyscrapers and traffic honked below you, but by some miracle, you could faintly see the stars in the velvety blue nighttime sky.  

“all of those stars have a reason they’re here,” chris mumbled. “i hope i find that reason for me…for us.”

you hummed quietly against in his chest in your robe. things weren’t okay right now, they probably wouldn’t be for a long time, but you were too exhausted to argue. you knew chris loved you, you knew you loved him, but you also knew that you couldn’t spend the rest of your life waiting around for what he might do. 

a/n: yeoWCH....thank you for reading bbys!

[chloepleasestopdying]

I had an idea for a X-men AU where Chloe was an mutant which caused her a LOT of stress at home. I never decided what kind of mutation she had, only that I wanted it to be a really easy one to see but also I liked the idea of her being able to pass as human if she really wanted too so I kinda pictured her as being able to shift into something like Beast (I also liked that idea because he is blue)

Anyway the bulk of the idea was that Chloe and Max are dating while Max is at college. Max discovers she’s also a mutant but since her powers aren’t physical her parents pressure her into keeping it hidden (for her safety) Chloe slowly starts fall into pro mutant groups (due to all the anti mutant hate plus how David and Joyce keep trying to pressure her into ‘being normal) and eventually ends up joining some kind of recruiting off shoot of the Brotherhood of Mutants.

After a little bit of this on a normal ‘mission’ Chloe pulls up with Max because suddenly Max demanded it. It totally freaks Chloe out because Max knows every single person there, including the higher ups that Chloe’s never seen before.

And whoops, that’s actually Future Max who is currently fucking around with time.

[arts-and-drafts]

I decided to start compiling speech patterns and such for the Hermits I watch the most, because being a fic writer is hard sometimes 😭 then I thought “why not share it here?”

so here’s my very rough analysis of my most viewed Hermits, this is just what I’ve managed to gather so please don’t call me out for what I’m missing

-

Scar

Rarely stutters in normal speech. Maybe pauses if he’s started a sentence and doesn’t know where it’s going, but he doesn’t tend to trail off unless something interrupts his train of thought

Stutters a LOT when he’s startled. Also makes ‘hoo!’ noises repeatedly before he finds his words

Lays on the charm THICK when he’s trying to convince someone over literally anything; compliments their looks, their handiwork, and then pitches his proposition in smooth segue. Not one to entertain haggling though (however he DOES do a ‘look if you’ll pay full price I’ll throw in xyz’ thing). King of upselling even the most mundane things.

His tone is cheerful most of the time, no matter what he’s saying. He’ll actually often say very disturbing things with a light voice (ex. when discussing how to retaliate ie “what should we do about him?” “we could kill him! :)”)

Builds and locations somehow are always capitalized in his voice?? Like he says them differently. I can’t really explain it (when he talks about Aqua Town or Scarland or The Big Dig)

Literally has an evil laugh when he thinks of a way to prank someone or mess with people

Hums in thought quite often, and uses “huh!” quite often when confused or finding out something new (Mostly with redstone)

His farewell is almost always “Byeeee, have a great time!” even if the conversation he left was not a pleasant one. I’m almost certain he does this in tense situations just to get under other people’s skin and really push how unbothered he is

Doesn’t tend to insult people, the farthest he’ll take it is backhanded compliments

That said he is not afraid to outright threaten (“I will murder them.”)

References media a lot, both for concepts for builds and in speech (ie his greeting “Well hello there!” is from Star Wars)

Number one exclamation is “Sweet Baby Jellie!”

(More under the cut!)

Grian

Cold opens, both in videos and conversations (rarely says “hello, how are you, etc” when encountering someone, but he does say farewells/‘thank you’s)

Likes to sneak up on people and scare them if he realizes they haven’t noticed him yet, usually does so by getting real close and then yelling (“HEY!”/“HI!”/“WHAT’S THAT?”)

Uses the name of whoever he’s talking to pretty often while speaking to them (“Well, Mumbo, you never know”/“So, Scar, as you can see here-“), same goes for often addressing his audience (“you all”/“you lot”/“you guys”)

Usually pretty focused (when he wants to be) but oftentimes takes a minute to laugh at things he notices in the natural environment (An accidental face in a build, a mob in a strange place, etc)

Takes the lead in a conversation if nobody is the clear leader, but generally only speaks when spoken to if someone else has risen to that spot

Clarifies instructions after something is explained, both to his viewers and to anyone he’s grouped up with (most often seen in the Life Series)

Uses “Pardon?!”/“Beg your pardon?!” most often when surprised or startled (he’s very British), also sometimes uses “Sorry??”

Things are way more funny to him when he’s tired

Deadpans a lot in conversation ie “why not do xyz?” “Well because we’ll horrifically die 😑“

This man is allergic to committing to the bit unless he’s the one that initiated it

Not one to sugarcoat (“how is it?” “well to be honest it’s miserable”)

Number one exclamation is “WHAT?!” (though he often uses “oh my GOODNESS” quite a bit)

Mumbo

The start of nearly every episode is almost a pitch, does the same when bringing up an idea to others (“I have this idea”/“I was thinking”/“I noticed” etc)

Often laughs a little at himself when he speaks

Also often brings up how inexperienced/unqualified he thinks he is with literally any task he’s doing

Gets very distracted with the smallest things

Uses similes a lot when trying to describe a concept (“I’m thinking a this-type thing”/“Something like a [xyz]”/“Imagine like a [thing]”)

His voice gets higher when he’s startled or panicking

A very vocal thinker, which makes sense because he’s a MC Youtuber, but he also just. Seems to think out loud regardless

Comments a lot on the feel of things (“Oh this feels menacing”/“This looks like it’d mess you up”/“This makes it feel very intimidating”), often with building

Extremely modest. However will celebrate when he does something right in redstone/building (“YES! Oh my days, that took forever”)

Once and a while will have a rare banter moment with people he’s comfortable with (ie teasing and making fun)

Related to above, he gets very giggly when he’s hanging out with people he’s familiar with (Grian and Scar most often, but also Iskall)

Number one exclamation is “What on earth?!”

Joel

Greets people most often with “How you doing [name]?”/“How are ya [name]?”

He’s very northern. He often leaves out words in his sentences bc that’s just the way his dialect is (“What you doin’?” vs “What are you doing?”)

Says his th’s like f’s (“somefing”/“nofing”/“finking”) ((Stress also does this))

His jokes/teasing are very deadpan (“I made you this extra thing, because you’re trash at this”)

Actually gives gifts of resources very often, and always leaves it with a little note and signs his name

His voice gets higher pitched when he’s defensive/being extremely cheeky but other than that his tone rarely changes

This man. Flirts so much. If any other person initiates even the slightest of flirty banter he takes that and dials it to eleven I cannot believe this is a straight married man sometimes

Joel commits to the bit 100% of the time (slightly related to above), unless of course it’s jokes about his height

Makes a point to compliment himself if he gets the chance (words most often used are “handsome” “strong” and “humble”, as well as comments about his muscles and physique)

Insults his enemies diminutively (“look at you down there, tiny idiot”/“You’re wrong and also weak”) ((seen most often in Empires SMP)

His most often used insult is “idiot”

When he’s flustered/frustrated he uses “bloody” a lot (ie “bloody heck” or “this bloody thing” (loves to toe the PG line), also uses “blooming” (“bloomin’ heck”)

Most often used exclamation is also “WHAT?!”

Bdubs

Opens videos very jovially, talks almost like a radio host

Breaks down his builds down to the block, spends a lot of time discussing his block pallet choices and giving tips while he builds

Uses the affirmation “sure enough” a lot, and often addresses himself as “Ol’ Bdubs”

Talks affectionately about other hermits often (“[name], the absolute sweetheart, left me some materials”, “[name], you angel!”)

Adding to above, “angel” or “sweet angel” seems to be his most often used affectionate terms

Switches on a dime, though, if he gets offended (which of course causes others to poke fun at him even more)

Calls mobs “stupid” a lot when they don’t do what he wants (but takes it back if he says it to one of his horses ex. “Come here, stupid—wonderful, I mean, beautiful”)

THIS MAN IS THE #1 HORSE ENJOYER. He gets a horse first thing every season and rides it everywhere, and they’re always a focal point of his theme or builds in some regard

Pauses whatever he’s doing to sleep as soon as it’s possible, and gets very antsy if he can’t do it for some reason (“One moment, time to shreep!”)

Related to above, EVERYONE messes with him if he’s trying to sleep in their presence ie breaking his bed over and over, and he gets increasingly more frustrated when it happens

Rarely is soft spoken or quiet, he projects his voice and uses a lot of emphasis in his tone

Either straight up screams (and peaks the mic 😭) if he’s startled or scared, or yells “oh my GOODNESS!!”

Number one exclamation is “HEY!”

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐧 || 𝐉.𝐘𝐇 ♡

【Synopsis】 : a new book shop had opened on the block, and a certain marfia leader was interested in the sweet little owner.

『Word count』 : 9.01k

-> Genre: Mafia. Smut. Romance.

Pairing: Perv!MobBoss!Yunho! X Librarian!Reader

[Warnings] : Pervy Yunho. Like I mean this man is so horny for the reader it's crazy. Really shameless flirting and a lot of flustered most likely cringe moments but it's fine… I promise. Mention of criminal activity. Yunho is a classy criminal, what can I say. Swearing. Tension. Inappropriate thoughts. Strangers to Lovers?? Domestic play. These two already act like an old married couple, confirmed. Making out, oral(f). Fingering. Edging. Dirty talk. Unprotected sex.

Author note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY DARLING YAYA!! I hope you enjoy this little treat. This is plot heavy. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I had such bad word vomit. May or may not end up writing another part, we’ll see ahh. Ah, i love you ♡ @skteezcursed ♡

Also this is not beta read so please be mindful of any mistakes ♡

Networks: @atzhouse @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet

Masterlist | Navigation

“I’m just saying why can’t you get one of the field boys to do it. You got a meeting in thirty, and I don’t see how explaining to them you were ‘out for an errand’ will solve your tardiness.” The driver scoffed yet again as he took the next right towards the new shop that had just opened a few weeks ago in town. A little book shop. There hadn’t been a proper book shop in this part of the city in years, and Yunho was immediately interested in it.

“Like I said, I want to see this place for myself. I don’t need one of those knuckleheads barging in like they own the place. And none of those bozos will ever say a word. I could be a day late, and they’ll all pretend they were just early.” Yunho rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his whiskey. He felt tired just thinking about that meeting. The one he’s been putting off for months. “Stop here.”

San sighed in defeat before taking a spot on the busy road. No one seemed to bat an eye as a black Chevy Suburban rolled up, but then again, most people on this side of town knew exactly who the car belonged to. “Meet me back here in twenty. Go grab us a coffee or something.”

“Wait but, Sir. You can't just—” Yunho slammed the door to the car. “Leave…”

-

The little bell on the top of the door rang cutely as Yunho entered the quiet establishment. There was barely anyone in here, if not no one at all. Perfect. He thought, given he wanted to be able to meet you in peace. And there you were, casually placing books in their rightful places on the shelves. You are wearing a cute sundress with an apron over it. There’s a little sun pattern all over the fabric, making it match with the pastel yellow ribbon in your hair. You were the most beautiful thing Yunho had ever laid eyes on. And the first time he noticed you were in the cafe, a few shops down. You bought a hot chocolate and a blueberry muffin. He still remembers the smile on your face when you took that first sip, getting a little foam moustache as a result.

He wanted nothing more than to kiss your sweet face then and there. So naturally, he looked you up. Finding out you had opened up this vintage-urban store. You had moved from outta town, but no one knew where, and your family and history was a mystery. Even to him and his beast detectives. You were no one. And that made you even more interesting. “Come on..just..g-go.”

You were on your tip toes trying to reach the top shelf to put a book back but you being forgetful, left the stool in the back closet and you had decided it was too much of an effort to go back and get it now. You jumping was what you resorted to. You looked like a rabbit in Yunho’s eyes. A sweet little rabbit that’s breast bounced perfectly with every hop. The scrunch in your nose and little tongue poking made him wonder what your face would look like if when you were fucked just right.

His feet moved swiftly until he was flush behind up. You felt his broad chest before you heard him as he softly grabbed the book from your delicate fingers and placed it where it needed to be on the shelf. But what ultimately caught your attention was his smooth voice. “Looked like you needed some help, doll.”

Oh right then and there you felt your life was about to change very dramatically and oh, how it did excite you. “T-thanks.”

“Anytime.” His deep voice spilled in your ears like butter, and his cologne danced around you making the outside world cease to exist. He was walking sex on legs, something out of a dark romance novel and you knew exactly who he was. “So, have you got any book suggestions?”

Your smile grew when he asked the question but Yunho was cringing inside. That was really the best he could do. He’s been watching you for weeks and that was all he could mutter up. You on the other hand, chirped, plodding off deeper into the store. Yunho followed as he watched you scanning the shelves, your fingers tracing the spines of multiple books as you passed them, your mouth quivering out the titles of each one. “Here we go!” You grabbed a black book off the shelf. It had a red misty design all around it with bold white lettering in the centre. It looks magical, like you. “This is one of my favourites. But be warned, it’s a lot of info dumping at the start. But the ending is worth it.”

“Thanks doll. What is it about?” Yunho’s smile makes your heart shake, your fingers grazing his as you hand him the book. Your throat became dry, unable to think of the right words to describe the novel…”Oh it's fantasy…”

You snapped out of your brain as you see the man scanning the blurb on the back, his smile growing into a sly smirk as he read some of the words, Romantic, erudite and suspenseful. You put your jittering hands in the pockets of your apron as you tried your best not to blush. “Y-yeah.. yes. I. It's really good. It’s got witches and vampires, all sorts of creatures.”

Your little ramble caused Yunho to smile ear to ear. The way your face slowly lit up the more you spoke about it, the dramatic movements of your hands as you used them to further express your emotion. He had come to the conclusion you were the cutest thing on the planet. And he would do anything to protect that. “Well I’ll definitely give it a read, sunshine.”

Your like deepened the shade of pink upon hearing the cute nickname that slipped from the tall man. You felt like your legs were slowly turning to jelly at the thought not only was he hot as all fuck, but he was in fact a reader, like you. “T-Tell me what you think when you finish it.”

“I shall.” His remark was quick, the smirk making your heart race. When was he this close to you? Was he always this close to the point you can smell his cologne mixing with the whiskey on his breath. You gulped, watching his eyes scan from your eyes to your lips, before letting his own by swiping his tongue across his bottom lip. “I needed to speak with you about something as well.”

His deep authorial voice rattled in your mind, suddenly shaking you from your fantasy, making you remind yourself who exactly was standing in front of you. You nodded with a small ‘of course’ before walking towards the front counter. Yunho followed you as he spoke, “I’m assuming you know who I am…” his throat felt dry at his own words.

“Everybody knows who you are, Mr Jeong.” Your words seemed flattened, almost worried. In truth you were scared, but the murmurs that circled when you first entered the city was not something you took lightly. The cruelness people spoke off. The ruthless man known as the Viper. Mr Jeong Yunho. Too young to be a mafia lord, yet here he stood, powerful, feared and wealthy. “I suppose you were here originally for business then...”

Yunho watched as you took out the logs of the shop, no longer making eye contact with him. Of course you knew who he was, why was he so stupid in thinking he could pretend for one single moment to be someone else. To be a normal guy that could sway the sweet sunflower that owns the book shop. A fantasy, he thought, one that won't come true. “I protect these shops on this street. And I was wondering if you would be interested in getting into the same agreement.” he bit his tongue, trying his best to be professional.

“And what do I have to do to get this sort of treatment…” Your hands were shaking more than you’d like them too, not wishing to look into his cold eyes. But his eyes weren't cold, in fact they were swimming in conflict. He didn’t need anything from you, just like the other shops. No, he protected people that needed it and in return he asked for their favour. Nothing more nothing less. But he didn’t want a favour from you. No he just wanted…

“A smile.” Yunho said sternly.

“W-what?” You finally looked up at him to see a soft smirk on his shaded pink features and then he replied again..

“I want you to smile.”

-

You couldn’t help but yearn for Yunho every time you opened your shop. Waiting for him to walk in through those doors like he did almost two weeks ago now. you still remember the butterflies in your tummy as he said his goodbye…

“Like that.” Your smile grew bigger as he stepped closer to the counter. “It suits you so much.” He picked up your hand gently before placing the softest kiss on your knuckles. You swore your heart stopped at that moment. “I’ll be seeing you, sunshine.”

And with that he left, leaving your blood rushing to your ears and a hefty tip on your counter.

“Hey, so do I sort the biographies by title or by author.” The young worker so reluctantly hired comes rushing in from the store room, his shirt on the wrong way and his laces barely tied… his mother had practically begged you to give him work since he was almost twenty-three and still without job experience. And now you can see why no one wanted to hire the poor thing. He wasn’t the brightest.

“Uh yeah. By author and make sure they are put in the end row by the nonfiction section, please.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as you watched him stumble away to the back of the shop, his laces making him side step.

And then you heard a crash. Followed by a quick, “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” You felt like you needed to ask.

The young boy rounded the shelf, looking back at you with a face as bright of a pink as the poor flowers he was holding. He had broken another vase... perfect.

“Just put it in the back.” You scratched your chin sighing as he repeated over and over ‘I’m sorry’ while cleaning up the what you’d count as the fourth vase filled with flowers. You shook your head, looking back at the receipt logbook again, going over all the money you’d have made since opening. It was surprising, to say the least, the amount of people that have purchased or borrowed books in such little time made you giddy. You felt a sense of accomplishment at the idea people were reading. The sound of the doorbell chimed, shifting your attention to a possible new customer. “Hello, how can I help…”

“Hey Sunshine.” Yunho’s face beamed with happiness upon seeing you. His casual wear catches you off guard. He almost looked normal and not some big bad mob boss who could get away with your murder. “I’ve read your book.”

“Y-yunho.” You perked, closing the logs before quickly rounding the front desk until you were almost inches from him. Close enough to smell his gorgeous cologne. “That didn’t take you long…”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, reminding himself he had spent hours reading the book when he should have been working. But who was going to yell at him for it anyway? No, he needed to finish the book quickly so he could have something to talk about. “No, I fell in love with it on page one. And besides, the quicker I read it. The quicker I could come back here and ask you for another.”

Your face blushed as he took a step closer. You gulp at the proximity, practically feeling his body heat. His on hand leaning on the counter behind you, closing the distance. "D-do, you have any in mind..."

Yunho watched your eyes flutter close, taking in his aura. He couldn't help but smirk at how much he affected you. Infecting your perfect little innocent act, because from what he read in that novel, he knew you were the sunshine he depicted you as, no, there was a dark streak inside you, and he wanted desperately to draw it out. "I was curious if you got something more spicy. Hmm."

"S-spicy!?" You gasp, opening your eyes to gaze into Yunho deep ones, his pupils blown out, almost consuming all the chocolate in his eyes. His smile only grew, placing his other hand on the other side of your body, now trapping you between his large body and the counter.

"Oh, I know you've got ideas, baby. That book wasn't as innocent as you remember, hm." The tilt in his head made you dizzy. His face inches from yours. If you wanted, you would only need to move an inch to close the gap. To finally feel those lips you'd been dreaming about for the past couple of weeks.

"I could give you some suggestions..." You whispered your breath, mixing with his. Yunho bit his bottom lip, inching closer and closer until his lips graze yours and just enough to—

"I think I lost the log book again in the...." The young boy, frozen, almost dropping some of the books that he held tightly in his hand. Yunho sighs, reluctantly pulling away slowly. You looked down at your feet, feeling like your heart was going to jump right out of your chest. "S-sorry."

"It's okay, George. Just.. Did you leave it on the desk in the back again?" You answered the poor boys' question, making his face light up with cringe. He muttered to himself before scurrying off towards the back room. You look back at the man still caging you against the counter, but his gaze was elsewhere. On the young boy, in fact. Yunho could explain it, but he knows that kid. He's seen him somewhere. His face is so familiar yet lost. "Are you okay?"

Your little murmur caught the mob boss's attention, turning his attention to you once again. He cleared his throat before standing up straight, almost making himself bigger than normal. His gaze still flickered to where the back room was. His gut told him something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out what. "Yeah, don't worry, sunshine." He finally looked back at you, gifting you one of his award winning smiles, "I'm good."

"Well. I should be getting back to work." You felt a slight twinge of embarrassment circle in your tummy. Getting caught in the arms of a man like Yunho but being caught almost kissing him. That was a scandal and a half. Argh, you can practically hear all the old bettys in the street gossiping already. You go to turn away from him, but his hand grips your upper arm, swinging you into his chest. His free hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Let me take you out." He smirked.

"A date?" You questioned.

"Yes. I like you, sunshine. If that wasn't obvious enough." He could see your ears start to turn pink as you tried to look everywhere else. Your heartbeat was ringing in your ears, feeling an overwhelming sense of every emotion under the sun. He leaned closer until his lips grazed your ear, whispering, "Think about it. I'll come back Friday afternoon before you close, and you can tell me your answer."

He lightly kissed your cheek before letting you go, walking out another thought. You just stood there, shocked, thrilled and absolutely terrified.

"You can't go."

"What?" You knitted your brow as you turned to George standing in one of the aisles. He jumped, changing his expression from a plan and cold expression to one of bewilderment.

"Uh, what I mean is you shouldn't. He's not a good man." You can see his grip on the books tighten as he grits his teeth. Your expression stayed the same as you turned your back to him, opening the logbook to where you were before.

"I know who he is." Your words were cold, blunt, almost shocking the young man. He was taken aback, to say the least, but then again, he expected your response. In fact, he hoped for it.

-

Through the following days, you found yourself staring at the clock, waiting, begging for the day to end. You wished desperately for it to be Friday every time you woke up. It was finally Thursday when your craving died a little. An old lady had come in to return a few books, and she had said a fine looking man had asked her to give you a piece of paper. A letter. To say your heart nearly jumped through your throat would have been an understatement. "Hey, George. I need to do some paperwork, watch the store."

"You've never let me work the regis—." You didn't even let the poor boy finish his statement as you sped off towards the back room. Your shaky fingers locked the door as quickly as possible before you practically jumped into the swivel chair. ‘Open it’ you told yourself ‘it has to be from Yunho’. Your smile only grew bigger at the voice singing in your head. You open the paper and see it's written in the most beautiful hand writing you've ever seen. It read;

To my sunshine,

Even though our interactions have been brief, I have to confess that crossing paths in your bookshop was not the first time I've noticed your beautiful presence. I first saw you in the cafe, three shops down. The way you were lost in your book while sipping on your hot chocolate made me want to dive into your mind and see its wonders. Curious what could be lying within… You’ve been on my mind ever since. I have found I am unable to sleep at night without the thought of you. Call me old-fashioned with this letter, but I needed to get this off my chest without blabbering like a fool in front of you. I can't wait for our date tomorrow that I know you’ll say yes to. But until then. A gift…

You look at the bottom of the page and note there is a phone number. If the confession of love wasn't enough, him giving you his number was certainly going to kill you. You had already planned to say yes to his date but now an idea sparked in your mind. In truth, you have found feelings towards Yunho, like you had been made for one another. No amount of time, whether little or long it was, you know your feeling would stay the same. So you wanted to take the reins for once, even if deep down you knew you wouldn't be able to hold them for long.

Sunshine// I got your letter. I want you here out the front by 6 pm, wear something casual.

You left no room for argument as you shut your phone off and held your head high. George’s expression of unpleasantness couldnt… wouldnt, stop you from the growing butterflies in your gut. You were finally going to be happy, and Yunho was the one going to give it to you.

-

You swore it wasn’t this cold yesterday afternoon, the keys almost sticking to your ice cold fingers. You checked the locks to the doors one final time before letting out a sigh of relief and nerves, ready to call it a night. “Well hello, Sunshine.”

You turned with a smile, seeing the man of the hour. He was wearing a less-fancy dress suit. No tie, or cuff links. You couldn't help but giggle. “I said casual wear Yun…”

“What do you mean love? This is casual.” He chuckled, taking two large steps to you, closing the gap. His hand snuck around your waist, squeezing the flesh on your hips. “Where are we off to tonight?”

“A surprise. So you’ll just have to trust me.” You giggle, your palm resting on his chest. You could feel his heart racing a million miles, yet he looked so composed. But then again in his field of ‘work’ he needed to show almost no signs of emotion.

“I’d trust you with my life.” Yunho had never used those words so lightly, but it was the truth. He couldn't explain it but he could easily lay his life down for you. You could crush it if you wished and he wouldn't say a thing. You blushed at his confession, reaching on your tiptoes you kiss the rugged man's cheek, before pulling away towards the street.

“I loved your letter by the way.” And with that you turned to start walking, letting Yunho trail after you like a love sick puppy.

“Just this way…” Yunho followed you curiously as you weaved through the streets. There were no restaurants or diners around in this area he knew of and given he owned half the city he should be aware of almost everything. So where on earth were you taking him? You turned your head over your shoulders spotting the confusion on his face, you couldn't help but giggle at his wide boba-like eyes. You outstretched your hand, waiting for him to take it. Yunho swore he felt his heart stop when he locked his fingers with yours. Yunho has never put this much trust in a person before and yet he has found himself being led by you through the front door of an apartment complex and up three flights of stairs before coming to a stop at a door that read 117. “I..”

All the words you had prepared to say had suddenly flown out the window as you slotted the key into the lock. Yunho’s smirk grew as he watched your brain scramble, finding enjoyment in watching you squirm. “And here I thought you had an innocent date planned. But my cheeky little sunshine just wanted me all to herself, hmm?”

“N-no!!” you whipped your head to his direction, leaning against the door with blush riddled on your cheeks. “I-i just wanted to make you a home cooked meal. I-i prefer cooking over going out.” You dipped your head to the ground feeling a little ashamed of your introvertedness. Bringing such a dangerous man home wasn't exactly the thought that crossed your brain when you thought of this evening. In truth you were only thinking about treating him to your cooking, something you took pride in. “I’m not very good with other people.”

He brought his hand to your chin, lifting your face up so he could look at you in the eyes. There was no judgement in his soft gaze, heck even his killer smirk was now only a small simple smile. “As long as I'm with you, we could be doing anything, besides…” He leaned down to give the side of your face a kiss before whispering, “I’m not one for crowds either.”

You gulped, nodding slightly as you turned back to open the door. Yunho’s gaze shifted from yours as soon as he heard the creek of the wood, finally getting a peek inside your little place you call home. Your place was riddled with a vintage, cottagey-like aesthetic. It was like Yunho had stumbled into a fairies hut that was hidden away in the woods.the smell of your salt lamp was strong but not as strong as the calming lavender. He felt like the air around him was giving him the warmest hug. Everything was soft, cute, and dainty… just like you. You lead him deeper into the apartment, letting him take the lead once you get to an archway. It led into the lounge room he found, spotting the emerald couch and various bookshelves encasing a tv cabinet. “Uh..I… make yourself at home, i just got to put away some things and i’ll start to prepare dinner.”

You scurried off before he had the chance to protest, not that he would have that is. He was almost scared to take a seat, his black on black attire completely stuck out to the surroundings. Slicked back hair, expensive accessories, shoes worth more than most of your furniture… He was so out of place. Taking a seat he felt himself sink into the cushions. He was being bombarded by plushies falling onto him as he shifted to get comfortable. Everything smelled like you, sweet, sugary, a hint of freshly baked goods and old books. He couldn’t help him, leaning down he brought his face to a blanket you use regularly when lounging on the couch. He took a deep inhale. ‘God help me’ he'd think to himself as his fingers tangled in the soft fabric, feeling his hips twitch at the thought of your scent round him. Paint him as a pervert, he didn't care, all he cared about in this moment was the feeling of you. Craving, begging to see if he could have you as more.

A loud clunk caught his attention, making him snap out of the haze clogging his mind. He’s never sat up quicker, swiftly moving towards the kitchen to only find you with a pot on the ground and the lid firmly in your hand as if you were using it as a shield. “Whoops…” was all you could mutter, feeling like your nerves had been shot from the loud noise. Yunho scooped up the pot, trying to see if you were okay only to see your face completely red. The same red as the tomatoes on the counter. “I can't stop my hands shaking,”

You tried to laugh it off lightly at how nervous you were with such a man like Yunho being in your house. You were starting to regret bringing him here and wishing you just sucked it up and took him to a restaurant instead. Yunho's free hand placed itself on your upper arm, gently rubbing up and down on your soft skin before giving the flesh a squeeze. He hadn't even realised you were dressed in something different, another sundress, but this one was black with lace accents on the hems. the ribbon holding up your hair matched it accordingly. “Hey It's okay. Just take a deep breath, baby.”

Him calling you all these pet names weren't helping but you obeyed him as best as you could nonetheless. “I just feel a little silly bringing you here. You know since we barely know one another and I don't want you to get the wrong impression…”

“And what kind of impression would you be giving me, hmm?” He didn't mean to come off as teasing but his deep tone caused him to always sound alluring.

“I..uh. That I wanted to just get you to my place to sleep with you. Cause that's not the reason i just really dont l-like—” you stopped rambling as soon as your eyes met Yunho’s. His dark blown out gaze causes your words to get caught in your throat.Yunho had put the pot down a while ago, his spine straight as he stepped closer. You instinctively took a step back and then another before your hips made contact with the counter. Yunho placed a foot on either side of yours and his hands on the marble behind you. You were caged.

"And what if that was the reason? Would it be so bad?" It was like his voice got deeper, more sultry as he took a deep grumbling breath, taking in the scent of your perfume and shampoo.

"I j-just don't want to ruin anything we could have." You whispered, your eyes fluttering close. But Yunho simply stared holes into your flesh, like he could see straight to your soul. This cute little thing in front of him wants more than a hookup? Wants to actually get to know him? He doesn't know if he had just won the jackpot, or this was, in fact, a cruel dream he hadn't woken up to yet.

"Trust me, darling. Nothing you can do will ruin anything between us..." he leaned down to your ear, "Even if it's sex."

You choked when you heard him groan that unruly word. Your hand clapping over your mouth to hide your gasp. Never in your life have you been put into a situation quite sultry as this one. The men you’ve dated were only stereotypical, self-centered or mama’s boys. Worse if they were all three. But Yunho was different. He is no gentleman but yet, if you asked for the moon he would do anything to give it to you. He is not a nice man but if someone were to hurt the old lady that runs the little shoe shop down the street he would not be afraid to kill the fucker who did her wrong. He is not a lover but he’d be damned if he didnt wife you up the moment he could. Yunho was different and that's why you had quickly fallen for the man even if those around you did not approve. “W-what if I were to ask for more tonight. Not just dinner…”

Yunho’s heart stopped, he was sure of it. His body moving closer his lips inches from your own, “I would give anything your pretty little heart desires… all you gotta say is, please.”

You opened your eyes to see his dark ones locked on you. Moving your hand slowly, you snaked them gently around his neck, feeling his soft locks tangle between your fingers. “Please…” His lips locked onto yours, stealing the yelp from your throat. His hands that were gripping firmly on the counter now tugged at your hips, bringing you flushed against him. You could feel his body heat pool where you needed him most. You’ve never been kissed like this before. The softness with pure desperation lingering. It was as if your nerves exploded with little fireworks across your spine as you shiver under him. “Y-yu..y..” He was quick to swallow your cries, using his leg to spread your thighs more so he could easily slip between them.

“If we keep going, We aren't having dinner.” Yunho groaned against your tongue, pulling away with a tug on your bottom lip. He could hear a slight ring in his blushed ears, feeling his whole body shaking, craving to keep going. But he needed you to take the lead. Tell him what you wanted… for now.

“My bedroom is the first door on the left.” Your smile seemed to be contagious as Yunho couldn't help but give you a cheeky little smirk in return. He wasted no time in taking a hold of your lips again, but this time he took a step back, letting you both shuffle ungracefully towards the hallway. You huffed as you almost tripped, giving up with the kiss. You grabbed a hold of his hand that was still tightly against your hip, intertwining your fingers withs his. You both stood there for a moment. Nothing but battered breath and racing heart beats could be heard. It was like the world had ceased to exist around this very moment. His hazy gaze travelled from where you were both connected, up your soft arms, until he reached your lips. They were swollen, puffy and pink. Beautiful… Yunho thought. Everything about you was simply beautiful.

You gave him a soft smile, one he has never seen ever pointed in his direction, and with your hands tightly interlocked, you lead him slowly into your bedroom. A shy grin decorated your features. Something that Yunho's dark stare didn't linger from, as if he needed to map out every curve and twist to keep it perfectly accurate in his mind for years to come. From the intense gaze, you look away and towards your bed.

As soon as you opened the door, Yunho was met with the sweetest scent. It was so much stronger than the one that painted your apartment. Strawberries, vanilla, and brown sugar. The room wasn't much different from the rest of your place. It was neat, tidy. But there were blankets and plushies galore on your bed. Like a little nest to keep you safe from the outside world. The bedding was a forest green that matched the similar greens on your desk that sat in the corner. You, of course, had a bookshelf in here, too, filled with a number of different kinds of novels. Yunho reminded himself to bring up the one you recommended to him when you first met.

"Cute..." Was all he spoke, making your red face become even more hotter. You turned back to him, seeing his gaze glued to you, eyeing you with a devilish smirk. "...Just like you.”

Yunho lowered himself to place his lips on yours in another heated kiss. His hands wandered lower and lower, making your own fly to grab his shoulders. He backs you up slowly, step by step. Your hazy mind was too focused on the deepening kiss to notice any movement. It wasn't until you were suddenly startled by the edge of the bed hitting your thighs that you pulled away from the man in front of you. Yunho didn't hesitate to push you back gently. The little yelp that escaped your throat would have sounded pathetic if in a different scenario, but Yunho couldn't help but groan in response to the sound. Before you could protest anything, Yunho quickly stifled any noise as he followed you to capture your lips once more in a fierce kiss.

Teeth clashed against each other, and tongues danced like there was no tomorrow. It was like Yunho couldn't get enough of you. He needed to taste you in every way possible. The whimper that slipped from him as his mouth ventures lower to your jaw, biting and lapping at your skin. Then the same is done to your neck, your collarbone, all the way to the part of your breasts that was exposed by your sundress. You gasp, tipping your head back onto the plushies behind you while your hands loosen from the fabric on his shoulders.

Yunho suddenly stopped, his dark gaze looking up at your flushed expression. You're as red as a tomato with glossed over eyes, and God is it a delicious look on you.

"Such a pretty little thing." He groans, his voice all but a hushed whisper, slowly snaking his hands to your knees, playing with the lacy hem of your dress. "May I, Sunshine?" You nodded while biting your lip, a little too enthusiastically, shifting a little side to side. You tried to ease some of the ache between your legs.

“Use your words, Darling,” He grins, his touch unmoving.

“Please Yunho,” you finally squeak out. He shifts his body lower until he is snuggly between your legs. The sight of him looking at you through his lashes while his tongue coaks a thin layer of spit on his lips was enough to make you wet. You shiver as his large hands run from your knee, up your thigh, under your dress before returning back to your knee, tantalisingly. As if marvelling at what was before him. What you were gifting him. He does it again, this time letting his finger tips linger a little bit longer on your inner thigh before pulling away completely, leaving a thrilling chill to run down your spin. “I need you…”

His ghosting hand places itself back on the soft parts of your thighs, squeezing as he heard those three words slip from your pretty mouth. “You need me, sunshine? Need me to take the ache away? Tell me what you need, baby.”

“I want you to taste me…” You felt shy whispering such filth but Yunho on the other hand, simply raised an eyebrow at your daring comment. It was something so daring it brought a smile to his older features. His little sunshine wasn’t innocent and he was slowly drawing the darkness out. His thumbs hooked on the edge of the dress hesitating before pulling the fabric up, agonisingly slow.

“Hmm, I knew my girl had a dark side.” He spoke with a lightly chuckle escaping his reddened lips from him biting them in anticipation. My girl…those words played in your head on loop, like your new favourite song. My girl. Argh you would never get over him saying that. He hikes your dress up higher to reveal your cute purple panties with a deep wet patch on them. You’re soaked right through. It was like he couldn't help himself, taking his pointer finger he pressed firmly on the patch watching the fabric stick to your core. He couldn't help but groan, “All this talk and here you are…dripping.”

Yunho dragged you underwear down your thighs. The cool air that crept from your bedroom window immediately hits the warmth of your core below. His fingers snatch the fabric clean off your legs, flicking them off to the side somewhere before his lustful gaze finally sets on the prize he had been yearning for ever since he first met you.

He swipes his thumb over your aching cunt, collecting some slick with his finger. It sent a jolt through you, your thighs twitching without your control. He coated his fingers more, watching your juices spill down his digit onto his knuckles. He does it once more for good measure, this time rubbing over your clit to earn himself a delicious whine from you. You grip at the bedsheets, widening your legs further for him unconsciously as he continues to play and rub at your clit just right. "Fuck...Yun."

"That's it sunshine, feeling good?" He chuckled watching you flinch as he pressed harshly on your clit. He snaked closer before his face was inches from you. He blew onto your wet lips, causing a gasp to leave you, but the gasp quickly turned into a high-pitched whine as you suddenly felt the warmth of his mouth upon you. He begins to lap up your pussy all the while still harshly circling your clit, moans escaping your parted lips. The noises turned into something desperate when the thumb was replaced by his firm tongue, pressing down and licking at your swollen bud, again and again. Yunho groaned against you, bucking his hips into the mattress at a stuttering pace. You took notice of his whine, feeling another one while he ground his hips just right against the sheets.

"Please, yuyu, t-that. I..ah."

You've never had any man pay this much attention to you before, let alone find enjoyment in eating you out. You can feel yourself becoming absolutely soaked just under the sensation of his mouth. Your legs quiver and shake, unable to control your movements as you feel yourself tip closer to the edge.

You try to take a deep breath. Feeling yourself already so close has made you feel slightly embarrassed. But as he sunk his long finger inside of your cunt, all the nerves seemingly washed away. Another one slid in easily and "Nh-ah YUNHO!" He curls them upwards, right to the spot that sends a spark of electricity crackling through your core.

He begins a steady rhythm along with his tongue continuously lapping your clit like he was a starved man taking his fill of a goddesses nectar and you're unable to control the noises and pants that fall from your throat. You grip one hand into the sheets as flies to grab the back of your thigh. lifting your leg up further to give him more access. You need more. You craved more. You've never felt this good before, and your being was demanding to be selfish for once.

He added a third finger as if he knew you needed something more. It made your head slam into the pillow behind you, turning to almost shout into the soft cushioning, muffling yourself for your poor neighbours. He works up a good rhythm, finding what buttons to push, succeeding in getting to know what your body wants. Groans from him and other lustfulled sniffles fill the room, as your thighs clamp down around the mob boss's head, keeping him where he is.

He could barely breath as your hips buck against his soaked face. But he couldn't care less. In fact, he would be happy if he died like this. In between the legs of his best girl, his pretty little sunshine. You felt like you were about to explode but the euphoria didn't last long as Yunho used his free hand that had been holding onto your outer thigh to pull your legs apart, holding them in place so he could sit up slightly. "You close, baby? Do you need to cum?"

"Yes!" You answered in a choked whine needing to feel his mouth on you once again.

"Yes, what sunshine?" Normally, he would be one for punishment, and given you kept breaking rules, he was most certainly craving to punish you. But it decided to let it slide this one. He has more than enough time to mould you and shape you into his perfect angel later. But for now, he'll see what type of filth he can draw from you.

"Yes, please, Yunho." Your glossed eyes finally opened for the first time in what felt like years, your tears clouding most of your vision but you could still see the darkness in Yunho's gaze and how his chin was dripping with slick. Your slick.

He drove his fingers deeper, his knuckles brushing your walls as he slammed his digits in a calculated thrusts. Harsh, slow, and powerful. You become louder, needier, and you can’t get your breathing under control. You’re teetering right on the edge. Ready. Right there and then...

He stops.

His glistening face had the cheekiest, wet grin across it like he felt proud of edging you. You on the other hand looked almost shocked panting louding, heart beating in your ears with flush brilliant red cheeks. You lick your lips as you run your hand over your mouth before raking it through your slightly dishevelled hair. Your eyes grew narrow as you stared at the man between your shaking legs. He holds your thighs apart so you can’t clamp them shut to try and stop the intense tingling between, causing you to huff in frustration.

“Don’t need to ruin the fun now, princess,” he inquired as he stood up off the bed, towering over your weak looking frame. The moon light that was pooling in the room caused his shadow to engulf you, covering your body in his darkness. He looked powerful. He looked dangerous. Like the man everyone warned you about. The feared mafia leader of the Destiny clan. He pulls you by your ankles, yanking you until you were sitting on the edge of the bed. His hand gripped the back of your neck gently bringing your face to his so he could kiss you. But you kept your hand over your mouth, your other hand coming to place on his chest, holding him firmly in face with a hidden smirk.

“You are a cruel man.” You gestured to him not letting you finish, but in truth, the word cruel hung in the air like thick tension. Cruel. A word he was sadly used to. But not in this kind of way. It almost delighted him. You felt your heart jump as he raised his brow, coming closer so that he’s only a hair’s breadth away from the back of your hand. His dark eyes roam over your face, taking in every detail.

“Hmm why? You taste so sweet,” He bit his lip, “I want you to have a taste?” He mimics what you asked prior. You swallowed thickly with wide eyes nodding shyly. Slowly, you moved your hand away as he paused for a moment, just to see your flustered face once more. “Cute…”

He dives in, kissing you, lapping at your lips. His teeth nibbling, and his teeth clashing against yours. You could taste the muskiness of yourself on his tongue, the sweetness that lingered. You deepen the kiss, allowing his hand on the back of your neck to hold it still in place, giving up any power to give him everything of your being. Your hands shift to his shirt, catching the hem between your finger tips before tugging at the fabric. He seemed to get the gist as he pulled away for only a mere couple of seconds to pull his shirt off, snatching your lips against his once more.

Your fingers trace his body with your sight, feeling all the bumps of scar tissue and muscle. More proof of his status, of who he really was. But yet you still couldn’t pull yourself away. You’re not sure if you ever will. “Yu..” You huffed against his lips, “Yun I..”

He pulls away, letting his nose rub against yours while his eyes stay tightly sealed, taking in the moment like he was never going to be able to get it again. “What is it, my sunshine.”

“I need you… please.” You voice was barely above a whisper, only you and him being able to ever hear your little plea. His smile. His addicting smile made the butterflies in your tummy swoon. His hand that was firmly on your neck slid down until it found the zipper to your dress, playing with the metal between his digits.

“Can you stand?” He gently asked, waiting for you to nod a small ‘yes’. He helped you stand, the backs of your thighs still tightly against the edge of the bed, as if they were helping you stand. He finally pulled away, letting your eyes wander down his toned, damaged chest. He had tattoos up both arms, one of his right peck and one faintly sticking out on the top of his low slacks. You licked your swollen lips unconsciously as you gawked at him. Yunho on the other hand couldn't help but grin sinisterly at your reaction, delicately grabbing the zipper on your dress, he unzipped it until the straps of your dress loosened and fell from your shoulders.

The fabric pooled at your chest, your arms tightly holding it in place. “I…”

“Are you okay, love?” Your eyes snapped to his deep chocolate ones when he called you ‘love’, feeling your nerves crackling like fireworks. He tilted his head to the slide marginally, his smirk fading to a simple smile but his eyes never dimming their darkness. His hands gripped tightly onto his belt, unlooping it before throwing it somewhere in the room. He had made you watch his every move as he unzipped his slack unhurriedly. He could see the darkness begin to cloud your colourful eyes, your pupils growing large as the fabric fell to the floor, leaving him in his boxers. “Your turn.”

His voice somehow got deeper. His fingers gliding along your goosebumped skin. You took a deep inhale through your nose before letting your dress drop, pooling at your ankles. "Fuck..."

"Yun..." You dont even know why you called his name, but he was immediately on you, his one hand resting on your bare hip while the other effortlessly unhooked your bra in one quick snap, watching your plump breast spring free. He almost bent you in half when he brought his face to your tits, taking a deep breath, smelling your perfume on your sweaty skin. His tongue licked along the valley, groaning as he latched his mouth to your left nipple. "Fuck yuyu, nargh."

Your hands tangled in his hair as you feel back, dragging him with you as you fell on the bed with an 'oof'. He used his strong arms to throw your body upwards until your head hit the pillows, not leaving your breasts alone. He painted every part of skin he could with beautiful purple marks. Neading your chest, tugging on your nipples and wetting every surface. You could lay here and suck your tits for hours if you let him. But he knew you needed more. He needed more. Feel what it's like to be inside you.

"Such perfect tits. A pretty body. Everything about you is perfect sunshine. Hmm. My perfect girl." His praise made you whimper, a tear creeping out the corner of your eyes. You've never had someone say such kind things to you, praised you the way Yunho has been. For a cruel man, he was the kindest person you've ever met.

"Yu..yunho, please. I need you inside me." You whispered, tugging his head up by his hair so his lips were inches from your own. He gave you a small peck before sitting up slightly so he could wrap his legs around his waist, sliding the tip of his cock along your folds.

“Whatever my girl wants, she’ll get.” He sunk inside your soaked cunt inch by inch, bit by bit, until he bottomed you out. He shivered at the feling of your warm walls clenching tightly around him. His eyes squeezing shut and face burring in your neck. He could feel the coil in his gut already tug. he was going to cum any second and he felt embarrassed how quick you’ve made him feel like he had died and gone to heaven. “Fuck sunshine, you feel so nice. You’re pussy is sucking me in ngah.”

“Yunho please move.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, grinding upwards onto his public bone, feeling the friction ease the ache only just. It was like a switch went off when Yunho heard your little plea, snapping his hips into yours are such a pace it caused the air to be snatched out of your lungs. If you werent being fucked by the inch of your life you would of felt sorry towards your neightbours as a string of cries, swears and pet names bounced off the thin walls of your bedroom. Yunho drug his nails in the soft flesh of your waist, surely creating deep indents that you’d been flaunting for days to come.

You’ve never felt such a connection to another person before let alone a man. You were brought up with the idea that love didn’t exsit. That it was only a dream that settled in the books you’ve read. But the way Yunho made you feel, the way he made you want to feel. It was like you were in those books you’ve read.. “Yu..Yu I—”

“It okay baby. Let go. I wanna feel you cum around my cock.” He sat up just slightly grabbing both of your wrists he held your hands above your head, lacing his fingers harshly around your appendage. Bending one of your legs over his shoulder, he jackhammered into you at a sped that was just what you needed, feeling his waist grind on your clit, giving you the right amount of simulation to let go. “That’s it, darling.”

Your foggy eyes, riddled with tears, stared up at Yunho’s never leaving his gaze. He watch every detail your face made as you came crashing down from your high. The way you brows cross, you mouth hung only ajar and savlia dripping down your chin. You were the hottest thing he had ever laid eyes on, he was certain. “Fuck, sunshine, can I come inside you. Can I feel this pretty pussy up?”

His eyes begun to flutter closed as he felt a rush of need spill down his spine. You whimpered out a daring ‘yes please’ making him bust his load deep inside you, coaking your walls before some of his cum leaked out around his cock that stilled in you. Clouds daced around you, the softness of air tickling your sweaty flesh. Every nerve in your body was on an all time high and it was all thanks to the dangerous man above you. Yunho had let go of your wrist, kissing each one tendly. You simply lazily watched him, basking in the moment, never wanting it to end.

-♡

[nadvs]

the act of unravelling (part one)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

author’s note thank you to this anon!! this fic deviates from canon. timeline is s2 when rafe is at his most unhinged.

» masterlist

disclaimer there is no explicit s/xual assault scene in this story, but it is referenced and the trauma that comes with surviving it is explored. it is committed by an original character. when writing this, i pulled from personal experience, so please be mindful that if you comment, do not engage in any victim-blaming as it is triggering to me and others.

·········

In a single harrowing moment, you’ve learned that there’s truth to the expression that the enemy of your enemy can be your friend.

Rafe looks all too comfortable holding a gun. The rage coursing through you is deafening, persuading you that the person he’s pointing it at deserves to die.

And then, you utter the words rising in your throat.

“Do it.”

╰┈➤ two days earlier

Your shifts at the country club are a repetitive motion of driving over the golf course’s hills, handing the island’s wealthiest people their overpriced drinks, and accepting their money with a fake smile.

The job was always a predictable bore. Until a week ago, when you started seeing a familiar face.

The moment Rafe’s eyes landed on you and he realized that one of the Pogues he revels in berating is the new cart girl, his lips twitched into a smirk.

Every time you see him, he does the same thing. He orders a beer and says here you go, sweetheart when he tips you.

It’s always a fifty. No other club member gives you nearly this much. It’s like he loves reminding you that this type of money is pocket change to him.

Every time you serve him, you subdue your glare and take the crisp bill that sits between his fingers, wondering why even though the man is an arrogant asshole, you can’t stop staring at him.

You feel weak for not hating him all the way. You can’t help that over the years of your tense, sporadic interactions, a part of you has always wondered if he feels the same pull of attraction that you do.

You have to remind yourself of who he is. A man committed to letting everyone know how much better he thinks he is because he was lucky enough to be born into money. He’s heartless. And you can’t wait for the day that you finally rid yourself of this fixation you have for him.

It’s a sunny Thursday afternoon at the end of a long shift and you’re parked by one of the paved pathways on the course, recording your last transaction in your logbook.

You hear the familiar whirring of a cart passing by. It stops. You don’t think much of it until you hear his voice.

“We’ll take two beers,” he calls from behind the steering wheel. You look up to see him. Rafe.

“I’m obviously off duty,” you reply curtly, looking between him and his friend.

“What, so you can write in your diary, but you can’t give us some drinks?” he calls.

“It’s a logbook,” you reply coldly. “It’s called having–”

You flatten your lips together, trying to control yourself.

“Having…?” he challenges. The mocking tone of his voice is what makes you snap.

“A job,” you reply. “Not everyone can live off of daddy’s money.”

Rafe huffs a laugh, a wisp of amusement flashing on his face.

“Careful, Pogue,” he says. “What’ll your boss say if he knows that’s how you’re talking to me?”

“I’m off the clock, Kook,” you say the label with the same vitriol. “I can talk however I want.”

You close your book and start up your cart before he can irritate you any more. Even though there’s something aggravatingly magnetic about him, you refuse to allow him to taunt you any longer.

·········

You meet up with your friends on the beach that evening, zoning out as the three of them chatter around you, passing a joint you brought.

You stare ahead at the soft waves under the setting sun, thinking of Rafe’s cold stare, thinking of the smirk he seems to always have etched on his face reserved especially for you, thinking of how you wish your body would catch up with your mind because how can you dislike somebody this much but also be so attracted to them?

“Who’s your plug?” JJ asks, seemingly impressed. He pulls you out of your daze as he passes you the joint. Smoke curls out of the end of it, twisting in the wind.

“That guy, Porter,” you say flatly. You take a puff, thinking back to the shaggy-haired Kook who approached you at a party on the north side of the island the other night, offering you half the price on your first buy.

He also tried to convince you to try something harder, but you told him you’re sticking to pot. You weren’t about to get hooked on coke, especially not because a drug-dealing Kook wants to take more of your money.

You continue to stare ahead, passing the joint along.

“What a trust fund kid name,” JJ laughs. “Fuckin’ Porter.”

Your friends chuckle around you, but you continue to stare ahead.

“Hard day at the office?” he says in response to your absentmindedness. You meet JJ’s gaze, shaking your head as if to dismiss your own thoughts.

“Rafe is such an asshole,” you say.

“What’d he do this time?” Pope asks. Your friends await your response, already well aware of your history with the bullshit you’ve ever had to deal with at work lately.

“He said something about ratting me out to my boss for talking back to him,” you reply. You scoff, getting mad all over again. You need to pull yourself out of this funk. “Whatever. All I do is complain about him. He’s not worth it. This is the last time you’ll ever hear me talk about him. I mean it.”

You make an effort to join in your friends’ conversations, feeling guilty that you’re so spaced out. With parents who never give you much attention at all, the guys surrounding you are your family. Your brothers. They deserve better than to hear you ramble on about Rafe.

Rafe’s eyes travel over the silhouettes sitting along the darkening shoreline when he arrives at the beach with his friends.

It’s the sound of his pick-up truck’s door shutting that gets your attention. You look over your shoulder. Then, you glance away, indifference on your face.

It pisses him off. Rafe has always craved what he can’t have. Power. Self-control. You. Every time he talks to you, you act like he’s such a bother, a sharp thorn in your side.

You get under his skin. And he’s never wanted a girl this bad. A goddamn Pogue of all people. Something about you lures him in. It makes him want to see what really lies behind the irritation that burns in your eyes every time he speaks to you.

He needs to crack your armor. And he has always loved a challenge.

As the beach populates, the division between the Kooks and the Pogues is clear, as if an invisible line is drawn in the sand. He stays on your side, you stay on yours.

When night falls, you and your friends have all smoked through the entire joint, and you’re a bit buzzed but not nearly as high as you’d like to be.

You spot Porter by the shoreline, drinking with his friends, and dust the sand off your knees when you stand up.

“I’m gonna go buy some more,” you say to your friends.

“Going into enemy territory?” JJ asks.

“It’s nothing new to me,” you laugh. “I work in enemy territory, remember?”

“You need company? Or cash?” John B asks.

“All good. My treat,” you say. “I’m loaded with tips.”

You don’t mention that a majority of the money in your pocket is from Rafe.

As you approach the boisterous group, you cross your arms and feign confidence. In reality, being around these types has always put you on edge.

Kooks give off a sense of invincibility, almost impunity, like predators at the top of the food chain, perpetually safe from harm and always on the brink of inflicting it.

You notice Rafe’s stare on you from his place in the large group and your stomach twists. Your eyes flit off of him and you wonder how it’s possible to wish someone would stay away but also so deeply crave they’d come closer.

Truthfully, within the tangled way he makes you feel, you’re kind of scared of Rafe, too. He’s reckless and unpredictable. And yet, that side of him excites you. There’s a complexity to him that has an inescapable effect on you.

“You holding?” you ask Porter once you approach him. He’s one of the few Kooks you don’t mind so much. He doesn’t have the cold air of arrogance that you’re so used to.

“It’s good shit, isn’t it?” he says with a smile. “How much you want?”

You leaf through the bills in your hand.

“Just a joint,” you say. The waves crash behind you, almost drowning your voice out. You make the exchange and push through the crowd, eager to get back to your friends.

You thought you managed to get away without any complications, but two words stop you.

“You lost?”

You turn to see Rafe, overwhelming heat rushing through you as he closes the distance between you, towering over you as the breeze brushes his hair over his forehead.

“What, ‘cause I’m on your side of the beach?” you mutter. “Grow up.”

Rafe smirks. He gets such a kick out of fucking with the Pogues. Especially you.

“Is that what you’re spending my tips on?” he asks, eyes darting down to the joint in your hand.

“Yeah,” you answer. “You can tell your father I say thanks.”

Rafe’s mouth curls into a bigger smile. When he looks at you like that, like he wants to be around you, you wonder if he secretly enjoys your company.

“How long you been buying from him?” Rafe asks.

“Why?” you say. The way you glare at him makes every muscle in his body tense. He’d be an idiot to deny how attracted he is to you. “You gonna tell my boss?”

“It was a fucking joke,” he mutters with a laugh. “You Pogues all have sticks up your asses, I swear.”

You grit your teeth. He’s clearly pleased when he riles you up like this. You don’t understand how somebody could be so spiteful.

“What do you want, Rafe?” you say.

Silence settles between you, the chattering of people on either side of the beach intertwined in the air, an overlap of worlds far apart. He reminds himself that he has something important to ask you.

“Did he offer you anything else?” he says. You’ve already heard the gossip about how Rafe’s selling coke now. He must want to offer you a better price.

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling,” you reply. Rafe scoffs, his tongue jutting under his cheek as he takes you in.

“I’d never sell to you.”

You huff a flat chuckle. You’re tired of his juvenile obsession with the class divide that sits between you.

“So, I’m good enough to serve you drinks, but not good enough to buy your drugs?”

You feel a sick sense of satisfaction when his face hardens with anger. For a second, you worry that you’re just as spiteful as he is, that you’re no better than him.

Rafe scoffs. He’s seen what coke does to people. To himself. He refuses to see it happen to you. But of course you expect the worst of him. Like everyone else does.

“Did he offer you anything else or not?” Rafe repeats with a note of irritation.

“Why?” you sputter.

“I need to know if he’s trying to steal from me.”

Rafe refuses to be in competition with anyone. Other Kooks can sell weed all they want, but coke is his territory, and if he has to claim his territory, so be it. He’s heard rumblings that Porter’s expanded his offerings now. And Rafe isn’t going to let him fuck him over.

“He did,” you finally answer. “Coke. He said it’s the purest on the island.”

He only nods tersely, lips twisting in frustration, before he turns around and storms away from you. So, that’s all he wanted from you. Information.

“You’re welcome,” you half-shout. Curiosity pulls you in as your eyes follow him into the crowd. Sure enough, Rafe pushes Porter to the ground, shouting indistinctly, earning jeers from the crowd.

It’s typical. Nearly every time you see Rafe out socially, he’s yelling and fighting someone. You walk back to your friends, hoping you can shake off the feeling he left you with.

·········

The only thing getting you through your shift the next day is that tomorrow is a holiday. The night of the Fourth of July is an escape from the stresses of your life, an excuse to get wasted with your friends under the fireworks and let yourself drift off into oblivion.

After you clock out, you’re pacing through the country club’s bar when you hear your name called from the patio. You look to see Porter sitting at a table with a couple of friends, his smile wide.

“Didn’t know you worked here,” he says when you approach.

“Yeah, I’m a server on the course,” you explain. You almost expect him to ignorantly ask for a drink, but have to remind yourself that he’s not like Rafe.

“How is it?”

“It’s fine.”

“Come on, we won’t tell,” Porter chuckles. “You hate it, don’t you?”

“Only sometimes,” you reply with a laugh. “Depends on the day. And on the person I’m dealing with.”

“Fair enough,” he says. He pulls out his phone, punching in the password. “I meant to tell you last night that you should have my number. You know, for when you need to stock up.”

You take his phone, cluing in that he’s making himself more accessible to you for the next time you need to buy from him. As you text yourself his name, one of the men at the table motions to Porter.

“Bro,” his friend says, gaze trained ahead. Porter looks past you to the bar and shakes his head in disbelief.

“Can’t escape him,” he sighs.

You follow his eyeline to spot Rafe at the bar with a friend, dark liquor sitting in the glass he’s holding.

“Not a fan?” you ask.

“Is anyone?” Porter laughs. “He’s a nutcase.”

“Don’t let him hear you,” his friend murmurs.

“Yeah, he’ll kill you,” the other guy laughs.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Porter replies.

Your eyes linger on Rafe a second longer than they need to. Your curiosity for why he’s the way he is is like a flame that won’t burn out. He has everything he could possibly want. Why is he so mean?

“Yeah,” is all you can say. You turn around again and give Porter his phone back.

“Oh, there’s a party at my beach house tomorrow night. My neighbor does this crazy fireworks thing every year,” he tells you. “I’ll text you the address.”

You nod appreciatively, glad that at least some of the rich people you deal with don’t buy into the idea that you’re beneath them.

·········

It’s nearing nine p.m. when you make it to the beach house the next night. The guys are rambling on behind you as you step inside the massive, humid house, filled with chattering people and loud music.

“Where are your car keys?” Pope asks.

“Right here,” JJ says, jingling them in front of his face. “Do I need to show you every five minutes?”

“I’ll just take them,” Pope says, grabbing them and stuffing them in his pocket. “You can’t be trusted.”

“It was one time,” JJ says. You laugh as you think of last weekend when he’d lost his car keys at a party in the Cut.

“Yeah, and we had to search the sand for, like half an hour,” you remind him.

“You know what I’m not hearing?” JJ says. “A thank you for driving all the time.”

“Remind me, who actually drove last time?” John B asks. “And who was hurling in the backseat?”

JJ scratches the back of his neck.

“I’m a man of honor,” he says. “I’m not not going to chug when I’m told to chug.” His eyes fix on something across the room. “Speaking of…”

He heads towards the keg and you and Pope share a disapproving shake of your heads. You follow your friends, grabbing a solo cup and sipping on beer.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzes with a text from Porter: You here? Want to buy?

You’ve already smoked through the joint you bought two nights ago and quickly reply: yes.

He texts: come upstairs.

“I’ll be right back,” you quickly tell your friends before you push through the crowd.

You duck under the string tied across the bottom of staircase, a sign that warns partygoers that it’s off limits hanging in the middle. One door is open in the upstairs hallway. You see Porter sitting on a bed, rolling a joint on a book that’s sitting in his lap.

“Hey. Got a fresh one for you,” he says.

“Thanks.” You dig into your pocket. “Same price?”

“Sure.” He cocks his head. “It’ll take a while. You can come in and chill.”

You sit at his desk close to the door, talking as he packs the thin white paper.

When he stands up, instead of giving the joint to you, he darts across the room abruptly. Your brows knit in confusion when he shuts the door, the loud music reduced to muffles now.

“What are you doing?” you ask, fear twisting your heart in a vice.

He must have read things wrong.

You assume he’ll stop when you tell him no.

He doesn’t.

·········

You fall to the hard floor. You grip the edge of the bed, hardly any light spilling into the room from the hallway as you blink rapidly to gain your bearings.

A loud slam was what woke you up. You don’t remember falling asleep. You don’t even know where you are.

Two shadowy figures stand on the other side of the room. One roughly pushes the other to the floor. You stay still, peeking over the bed. Your body is trembling with pain and you don’t know why.

“Do you think I’m joking?” a man spits.

You know that voice. It’s Rafe.

“Dude, relax,“ the man on the floor says.

You might be sick. It’s Porter on the floor, whimpering like an idiot. You remember why your body is aching now.

He hurt you. He hurt you and you retreated into your mind and you fell unconscious. A cold swirl of anger and disgust and sadness twists your stomach into a knot.

“I told you to stay out of my fucking way,” Rafe shouts. “Where’s your stash?”

“In the desk,” Porter says quietly. “Just take it. I’ll stick to selling weed, okay? You have my word.”

You watch from the floor, Rafe’s broad figure leaning to pull open drawers and shove items off the desk, objects clattering on the floor in the dark. They don’t know you’re here.

Consciousness slowly grips you. Rafe confronted him about selling coke. He told him to stop. And Porter didn’t listen.

Your eyes flood with hot tears. He didn’t listen to you, either.

You just want to leave. To get out of this horrifying room. To figure out how to put yourself back together after surviving one of the worst ways a person can break another.

Loud fireworks abruptly crack in the sky, startling you, shining light in through the window. And that’s when you see it. Porter is by the other side of the bed, still on the floor, and in his raised hand, something is gleaming.

A gun.

“Rafe!” Your throat is dry, sore from the way you’d screamed.

He suddenly turns towards you, confusedly finding your face across the room. Then, his gaze snaps down at Porter. He notices the gun. And he lunges.

You stand on shaky knees as you watch Rafe land vicious punches, every blow making Porter groan.

“Gonna pull a gun when my back is turned, pussy?” Rafe bellows. “Really?”

You round the bed, staring in horror, your mind still in fragmented shambles. You’d told Porter to stop so many times and every strike of Rafe’s knuckles against his jaw gives you a jolt of satisfaction, a desire for him to suffer more.

He was never a nice guy. He’s just like all of them. A predator.

Rafe scrambles to his feet, heavily breathing as fireworks continue their pops and sizzles over the beach.

The gun is in his hand now. His heart is thrumming, his blood boiling hot. He could’ve died. If you didn’t call his name, he could’ve lost his life.

Rafe’s steady and firm, holding the weapon still, a sharp contrast to how hard you’re shaking.

“Do it,” you say. Rafe’s eyes finds yours, his lips parted, blood splattered on his face. It’s not his. Porter didn’t land any punches. Rafe beat him that badly.

“What?” Porter cries. “Are you insane?”

He’s staring up at both of you through wide eyes as the barrel of the gun remains directed at him. You imagine how terrifying you must look to him, standing over him in the dim room with his pathetic life in your hands.

“Me?” you mutter. Hatred courses through your veins when you glare at him as he lies on his side, bloodied and weak.

The power has shifted into your hands. He was the one looking down at you earlier, hurting you. And now that your body is yours again, you don’t hesitate to kick him in the stomach.

He grunts when you make contact, his body curling forward.

Rafe watches, rendered speechless. He thought he’d seen you angry before. He hasn’t. This is new. This is pure rage. This is a level of wrath he didn’t know you were capable of.

Even through the darkness, Rafe can see that your eyes are shiny with tears when you turn your head to look at him again.

“What the fuck are you waiting for?” you snap, your words dripping with agony and rage. “If you don’t do it, I will.”

Rafe is powerless against the angry, malevolent instinct that’s guided him all his life. He doesn’t think.

The blow of the gun cuts through the air.

Your breath catches.

And he’s just a body. Lifeless on the floor. Gone.

You look up at Rafe. Your chests are heaving, broken and shaky breaths spilling out of your mouths. The colors lighting up the night sky tint your tear-streaked face. He’s never seen agony personified. He has now.

You glance down at Porter again. His mouth is agape. His eyes are shut. Forever. Forever.

“Oh, my God,” you whimper. Hot tears fall over your cheeks so quickly that you fear they’ll never stop. The adrenaline escapes you like water spinning down a drain, replaced with a bottomless dread.

Rafe realizes he’s still pointing the gun. He lowers his arm, his palm sweating against the grip. He had to do it. He had to. He didn’t know that taking a life would feel this good. He doesn’t feel a shred of regret or remorse. For once, he has real power.

But then he watches the way you sink down to the floor.

“What did we…” you whisper, words rushed. “What did we do? Rafe, what did we do?”

There’s a dead body next to you. Cold permeates your bones. You know it’s the type of chill that will never leave you.

Rafe kneels in front of you. The gun hits the floor with a heavy thump. The air smells like gunpowder, fried and smoking. He’s trying to meet your eyes, but your gaze is skittering around as you sit, crumpled and trembling.

“Hey,” he says clearly.

You’re staring at the ground, your breaths shallow.

“Hey,” he repeats louder. Finally, you look at him. “It was self-defense.”

You nod weakly, processing how within a second, you’ve tangled yourselves together into a knot that you can never unravel. Rafe pulled the trigger, but you told him to. And you’re sure you would’ve done it yourself if Rafe didn’t. You’re murderers.

Rafe’s hand is an inch away from you, almost putting it on yours, almost touching someone with tenderness instead of anger for once. You saved his life. You loathe him, but you saved his life, reacting in a split second.

“Why were you even up here?” he asks.

“Just be glad I was,” you say, hoping it’s enough to satisfy him.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he mumbles. “Thank you.”

If you weren’t so shellshocked, you’d laugh. You never expected Rafe to have manners, and you never expected that if he did, it’d be a show of gratitude for helping him kill somebody.

Nausea pools in your gut at the reminder of why you were so angry. Did Porter plan it? Did he always have his sights set on you, like a vulture circling the sky, ready to attack?

What happened earlier tonight flashes through your mind. He deserved to die. He did something unforgivable. He said things about how girls always do this, they always tease but never give it up.

You didn’t just save Rafe. You saved all the girls who were fated to cross that monster’s path. You pushed a soul to its death, but it was one not worthy of life.

Rafe stares at you as you blink rapidly, your mind clearly racing.

“He rip you off or something?” he asks, at a loss for why you’d encourage him to pull the trigger.

Of course Rafe thinks it’s about money. That’s all that matters to him.

“Yeah,” you lie, voice cracking. You can’t tell him. You can’t relive it. Especially with someone who you know is cold-blooded. Someone who might blame you for coming up to this bedroom in the first place.

Tease. Porter called you a tease while you pleaded for him to stop. You drop your head in your hands, chest stuttering with your breathy cries, remembering how he’d hurt you.

Rafe stares at you, confused, wondering how you could be so angry and vengeful and ruthless, just to regret it a second after the bullet left the chamber.

“We had to do it,” he states.

“I know,” you tell him. You wipe your cheeks with your palms, well aware that he could never understand why you’re really crying. “We’ll just tell the truth.”

He shakes his head at you.

“Tell who the truth?” Rafe mutters, his stare hard. “We’re not telling anybody.”

Your breath shakes. He wants to hide this. To try to get away with it.

“What if someone heard the gunshot?” you murmur.

“Everyone’s outside,” he says. “And those stupid fireworks are so fucking loud. Nobody could tell the difference.”

You wipe your face again, considering his words. Your phone is buzzing in your pocket. Someone’s calling you. Surely one of your friends. Why didn’t you just tell them where you were going? Why didn’t you just have one of them come upstairs with you?

Impatience quickly rises in Rafe while you stay silent.

“I almost knocked him out the other night,” he says. “In front of everyone. You think backing me up would be enough for anyone to believe I was protecting myself?”

You chew on your bottom lip anxiously. Rafe has a reputation for being violent. Porter put up a front that he was a nice guy. His friends even said right in front of you that Rafe would kill him. Who’d believe that Porter actually pointed a gun first?

Besides, if you vouched for him, who’s to say they’d trust you? They could spin it and say Rafe paid off a Pogue to lie for him.

“And then the cops would dig and find out it was over coke,” Rafe sputters. “It’d be a fucking mess. We’re not telling anybody.”

He’s right. Confessing wouldn’t do you any good, either. It could go sideways and you could never afford a good lawyer.

Nobody deserves to be punished for taking down the evil, lifeless man lying on the floor. Not you. Not even Rafe. You won’t take the risk.

You gaze into Rafe’s eyes, finding comfort in the striking blue hue for the first time, feeling a newfound sense of loyalty to him.

He gave you vengeance in a world that would never punish the man who hurt you. You’re in this together.

“Okay,” you whisper. “What do we do now?”

“We get rid of the body.”

next >

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

if you enjoy a fic, reblogging is the best way to thank and support the writer!

[misspygmypie]

Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 6

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2521 Click here for Part 5

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

The next morning Y/N and Noah were packed and ready for their departure, with Lando loading everything into the car. He had insisted on bringing them and thankfully they were leaving from a private area of the airport, so he didn’t worry too much about crowds.

The drive was filled with light chatter and laughter, Lando making an effort to engage Noah in conversation. He pointed out various spots and shared a few facts he knew about the city, trying to make the journey as enjoyable as possible for the little boy.

As they neared the airport, Lando decided it was the right moment to bring up the topic that had been on his mind. He glanced over at Y/N who nodded in encouragement and with a deep breath Lando started talking to the boy in the backseat. “Hey Noah, I wanted to tell you something important before you two leave.”

The boy looked up from his toy car he was playing with. “Yes?”

“Well, you know how you and your mom have been so amazing to me?” Lando smiled warmly, trying to keep his tone casual and friendly. “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you both this weekend and I want to tell you something.”

Noah tilted his head slightly, waiting for Lando to continue. “What’s that?”

Y/N took the driver’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze but she could see in Lando’s face that the Brit had no idea how to approach the topic. “Lando and I have been getting to know each other better and we’ve been having a lot of fun. He asked me if he could be more than just a friend to us and I said yes. So, he’s going to be mommy’s boyfriend now.”

“I know this might be new for you, but I want you to know that I’m really happy to be spending time with you and your mom. I’m looking forward to getting to know you even better and I hope we can have lots of fun together,” Lando directed at the boy, his expression nervous but hopeful. 

Noah’s eyes widened a bit as he processed the news. “Does this mean you’re going to be around more? And can we come visit you at more races?”

Lando’s face lit up with a broad smile. “Yes, I’d love for you and your mom to come visit me at more races, it would be fantastic to have you both there. I’ll make sure to have some fun stories and maybe even a few surprises for you.”

Y/N watched the exchange with a heart full of affection and relief. She could see that Noah was beginning to warm up to the idea, even though the 4-year-old probably didn’t fully understand what it all meant, and Lando’s genuine care was making this a positive conversation too.

When they arrived at the airport and Y/N went to get their boarding passes Lando and Noah found a quiet corner near the check-in area, away from other people. The young man crouched down to the boy's level, giving him his full attention.

“Noah,” Lando said gently, “I know this is a lot to take in. It’s okay to feel a bit unsure about things changing and not fully understanding it but I want you to know that I’m here because I really care about you and your mom. If you ever have any questions or just want to talk, I’m always here for you.”

“I’m not nervous. I think it’s going to be great and you really seem to like us.”

Lando chuckled softly, his eyes warm. “I like you two very much! And if you ever feel unsure, just let me know. We can always talk about it.”

The kid’s face suddenly brightened with an idea. “That means you could come to my next birthday! It’s not for a long while but it would be really cool if you could come!”

“Wow,” Lando’s eyes widened in surprise, he surely didn’t expect to get an invite to a birthday party already, “that sounds fantastic! I’d love to come to your party. I’ll check my schedule once we get closer to make sure I can make it. But if for some reason I can’t be there, I promise I’ll throw you a special party at the paddock. We’ll make it extra fun and I’ll make sure it’s something you’ll remember.”

Noah’s face lit up with excitement. “That sounds awesome! I hope you can come but I’d love the paddock party too.”

Y/N returned with the boarding passes, her face showing relief when she saw and overheard the supportive exchange between Lando and Noah. She joined them, giving Lando a grateful smile. “Thanks for being so understanding, Lando. I’m sure he will be thrilled whether you make it to his party or if we have to do the paddock celebration.”

“It’s going to be a lot of fun no matter what ,” Lando smiled back at her, “but I don’t want to have to wait that long to see you two again…”

After they finished up their goodbyes Lando watched as Y/N and Noah made their way to the gate. He felt excited about the future and the first thing he would do when he was on his next flight was to check his calendar for his days off.

_____

It was an ordinary Tuesday afternoon a few short months later and the Formula 1 world was buzzing with its usual pre-race speculation and excitement. The latest headlines were filled with updates about team strategies, driver performances and the occasional juicy rumor. 

At 2:00 PM the first hint of something significant emerged on social media. A tweet from a sports journalist read: "News coming out of the McLaren camp. Stay tuned!" The hashtag #LandoOffTheMarket began trending and at 2:30 PM, a series of paparazzi photos were released, showing Lando, Y/N and her four-year-old son, Noah, enjoying a casual day out. 

The images captured the trio in a heartfelt moment: Y/N holding Lando’s hand, his arm slung around her neck casually but tightly, while the toddler sat on the driver’s shoulders, Lando’s other hand securely holding on to the boy’s tiny leg to keep him in place and Noah’s little hands wrapped around the man’s neck while his head leaned softly onto the driver’s. A big smile adorned all of their faces.

The immediate reaction was a wave of shock, excitement and curiosity. Fans and media outlets scrambled to learn more about Y/N and her son, who had previously been unknown to the public. 

Social media platforms immediately were flooded with comments about the sweet new addition to Lando’s life. “Noah is the cutest!” and “Lando’s little family is absolutely adorable!” were among the most read comments. Photos of Noah, with his wide-eyed wonder and charming smile, quickly became a tiny sensation and fan pages dedicated to Lando began posting collages and edits featuring all three of them.

They praised Lando for his new role as a father figure and expressed their adoration for the young boy who had captured their hearts and many fans eagerly awaited any glimpses of Noah in future posts but also were quick to defend the family from invasive or negative comments.

For Lando, Y/N, and Noah the announcement marked a new chapter. What had started as a private romance was now thrust into the world, changing the dynamics of their lives in ways they had yet to fully comprehend. However, Lando and Y/N tried their best to handle their relationship as normal as possible.

With Lando being away for races their days were filled with text messages, Lando’s messages often included snapshots from his busy days at McLaren. He would send a photo of himself and his team, a behind-the-scenes glimpse of his gear or the track or a funny moment from the garage. 

Meanwhile Y/N would send images of her and her son, whether it was Noah’s latest art project, a day at the park or a cozy evening on the couch. Lando’s favorite ones though were Y/N sharing how she and Noah were watching one of Lando’s races together, cheering him on.

_____

A few weeks later it was Y/N and Noah’s first visit to a race since news of their relationship had hit the headlines. From the McLaren motorhome Lando spotted them making their way through the paddock and walked towards them, beaming brightly. Y/N was holding Noah’s hand, guiding him through the crowd. However, the photographers, drawn by the media frenzy over Lando and Y/N’s relationship, were relentless. Flashes from cameras and invasive questions quickly created an overwhelming atmosphere.

Noah soon became frightened by the flashing lights and the amount of people around him. His face turned pale and tears began streaming down his cheeks as he clung to Y/N’s leg, sobbing uncontrollably. 

Seeing Noah’s distress and Y/N’s struggle, Lando’s protective instincts kicked in. He pushed through the crowd, his voice rising above the noise. “Give them some space! Back off!” he shouted angrily. The photographers reluctantly stepped back, though they continued to snap photos from a distance. 

“Noah, buddy, it’s okay,” the driver said gently, kneeling down to Noah’s level. “We’re going to get you away from all these cameras.”

Noah, his face flushed and tear-streaked, looked up at Lando with fear. “I don’t like it… too many lights…”

Lando’s heart ached. Without hesitation he lifted him up into his arms, holding him close and trying to calm him down. “It’s alright, Noah. I’m here. We’ll find a quiet place.”

Y/N followed Lando as he carried Noah through the paddock. The tension and anger Lando felt were evident and everyone around them could sense his frustration. Reaching the McLaren hospitality area just a few short moments later Lando handed Noah a juice box, hoping to soothe him. “Here you go, buddy. This should help.”

Noah took the juice, his sobs gradually subsiding as he sipped. Lando, seeing that Noah was starting to calm down, turned to one of the team assistants. “Can you please take them to one of the offices? They could use a quieter spot to relax for a second.”

The assistant nodded and gently guided Y/N and Noah away, Lando watching them with anger boiling inside him. He then stormed into his and Oscar’s driver’s room section, slamming the door behind him. Oscar, who had witnessed the scene, followed him in.

“Everything okay?” Oscar asked as he entered the room.

Lando paced back and forth, his fists clenched. “Those photographers,” he began, his voice rising. “They were relentless! They had no regard for Noah, no sense of decency. It was like they were more interested in scaring him than taking decent photos.”

Oscar watched as Lando’s anger poured out. “It’s one thing for me having to deal with the media but to see them treating a child like that… It’s infuriating. I just wanted Y/N and Noah to have a nice day and they ruined it!”

Oscar nodded, understanding the depth of Lando’s frustration. “You did everything you could to get Noah out of there and make sure he was ok. Unfortunately sometimes that’s all you can do.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lando stopped pacing and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “I just hate feeling so powerless and unable to protect them from this.”

“They will be fine, mate. Let’s focus on the race and try to enjoy the time you have with them.”

Lando nodded, taking a moment to compose himself. He couldn’t shake the anger he felt but he was determined to channel it into a positive outcome. 

_____

As the race day wound down and the paddock was slowly emptying out Lando seemed detached. His usual bright demeanor was replaced with a contemplative silence that Y/N noticed immediately.

She watched him from across the paddock, his gaze distant as he stared at the now empty track. After making sure Noah was taken care of Y/N walked over to him, concern etched on her face. “Is everything okay?” she asked softly.

Lando turned to her and she could see the exhaustion and vulnerability on his face. “I just... I don’t know, Y/N. Today was supposed to be special and instead it felt like I failed in so many ways. I see how the media affected Noah and I can’t shake the feeling that maybe it’s not worth it, us being together, with everything that comes with it.”

Y/N’s heart ached at his words. She reached out and gently cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. “Lando, listen to me. I know things were a bit chaotic this morning and I know it’s hard sometimes with all the attention but that doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“But what if this life isn’t fair to you and Noah? What if it’s too much?” Lando’s eyes met hers, searching for reassurance. 

Y/N took a deep breath, gathering her courage to say what she had wanted to say for a while now but was too shy yet to admit to both herself and him. “Lando, I love you,” she finally let him know, feeling relieved that the words were now out. “I love you so much that I’m willing to face the challenges that come with being with you. Noah loves you too. He was a bit scared today but he looks up to you. He thinks you’re the coolest person ever, you’re his idol.”

Tears glistened in Lando’s eyes, touched by her words. “I love you too, Y/N, so much, both of you,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “I’ve loved you for a long time and hearing you say that makes me the happiest I’ve ever been. You both mean the world to me. I just don’t want to be the reason you or Noah are unhappy.”

Y/N’s expression softened as she wiped a stray tear from his cheek. “We’re not unhappy, Lando. We’re just learning how to navigate this. What we have is worth it. Your love, it means everything to us and the challenges are just part of it.”

Lando pulled Y/N into a tight embrace, his heart swelling still hearing those three words over and over again in his head. 

Noah had been playing with an engineer who had taken a break from helping pack up the equipment to entertain him. His laughter filled the air as he enjoyed the playful distraction and when Lando’s gaze fell upon him, the toddler’s eyes sparkled with joy. He ran towards Lando who picked him up with one arm while still having the other one securely around Y/N, embracing them tightly. 

“I’m so lucky to have you both,” Lando murmured, his voice trembling slightly. “I promise to do everything I can to make sure you’re both happy and safe, always.”

Y/N leaned in and kissed Lando’s cheek. “And we’re lucky to have you. We’ll get through this together.”

_________

Click here for Part 7!

Tag: @barcelonaloverf1life @remmysthings @poppyflower-22 @vickykazuya @hadids-world @ririyulife @deafeningunknowntyrant @lexiecampos @littlegrapejuice @eloriis @yawn-zi @landossainz @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @casuallyeating @destinyg237 @jaydensluv @hc-dutch @alana4610

[harknessxo]

House Of Balloons

Paring: Dark!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: When Agatha went into Westview her goal was to find the source of such chaotic magic but the moment she saw you, her plan changed just a little bit.

Warnings; psychological abuse (with magic), google translate Latin, kissing, possessive Agatha, non-con, girl penis, breeding kink, corruption kink, dacryphilia.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I finished it and the realized I forgot the mistress kink. I’m so sorry!

When Agatha got tangled up in Wanda’s Hex, her plan was to figure out where the source of such power was and take every bit of it for herself. That was until you came along. See, she soon figured out Wanda was the one responsible for this sickening reality she created and made her mission to befriend her so it would be easier to get her power. She followed Wanda’s…script per-say and made sure to dress herself for each decade.

Then came the 60s episode. Agatha took Wanda to Dottie’s committee meeting and that’s when she saw you. She stopped in her tracks to admire your beauty but stopped before anyone would notice. She made sure to sit right next to you and strike up a conversation.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” She complimented, trying to get your attention. You immediately looked in her direction, a rosy tint straining your cheeks.

“T-thank you,” you stuttered nervously. She chuckled at your nervousness. How adorable you were, she thought.

“I’m Agnes,” she introduced herself.

“I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you,” you replied politely. She smiled as you told her your name. A beautiful name for such a beautiful doll.

“It’s a pleasure, doll,” she rested a hand on your knee, watching for your reaction to her flirting, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. New in town?”

“I…” you stopped yourself trying to remember. Why couldn’t you remember? She noticed your pause, but before she could say anything Dottie called for the meeting to start.

“Alright everyone lets start today’s meeting.” Dottie announced.

“We’ll continue our conversation later, darling.” Agatha placed a hand on your thigh and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Okay,” you smiled awkwardly. Why couldn’t you remember something so simple?

The meeting began, and though it was long and boring, Agatha enjoyed being next to you. Her hand had remained on your thigh but she felt you squirm under her touch so she moved it. That last thing she wanted was to scare you off. She wanted for you to come to her willingly…at least with a little bit of magic.

As the meeting continued on Agatha kept stealing halves at you every now and then, completely forgetting why she was there in the first place and instead brewing a whole new plan that included you coming with her after she sucked Wanda dry of her powers.

Her mind slowly formed and tweaked her plan, but it still had one problem. A small, yet critical obstacle. That would be Wanda Maximoff herself. But…this town was Agatha’s to play with. If anyone would ruin her plans, it would be her.

Eventually, the meeting was done. Agatha didn’t hesitate to keep you from walking away, a strong arm wrapped around your waist and gently holding you in place.

“Would you like to come over for some tea, sweetheart?” she asked but it came out more as a demand.

“I uh- sure!” you replied nervously. She smirked, pleased that you didn’t put up a fight. She guided you out of the room, her hand resting on the small of your back, her touch hot through the fabric of your dress.

“Good choice. I want to get to know you better,” You were quite confused by this woman’s sudden interest in you but for some reason you didn’t question it, you couldn’t.

She chuckled as you seemed so…naive. You were just like putty in her hands. It wouldn’t be long until she’d have you wrapped around her finger and at her feet. Once she got you to her home, she led you to the couch and sat you down, sitting beside you with her thigh against yours.

“Do you have a preferred type of tea?”

“Anything is fine by me, thank you,” she smiled, reaching out to caress your cheek with her hand. She loved how you were just so easily trusting, even when her touch was possessive and forceful. She leaned a little closer to you as she spoke.

“I have some jasmine tea that I love. That will have to do.”

“O-okay…” you watched as she walked into her kitchen, all while you tried to wrap your head around what was happening. You kept trying to remember anything only for a harshful voice forcefully telling you to stop inside your own mind, making you wince.

Once the tea was brewed, she carried the tea kettle and two cups to the coffee table in front of you. She gently poured a cup of tea for both of you before sitting beside you once more, the tea kettle on the floor next to her. She watched you closely as you seemed uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong, my dear? Are you feeling uncomfortable?”

“No! Of course not!” you quickly said, not wanting her to offend her, “I just…I can’t seem to remember anything. I- I don’t know how to explain it.” This made her remember you were under Wanda’s spell along with the rest of the town. She frowned thinking of how much pain you were under.

“You can’t remember anything? At all?”

“No. It’s like every time I try…a voice yells at me to stop…” silence fell into the room which made you snap out of the sudden trance, “I’m sorry- that was stupid to say- how long have you lived here?” You said trying to change the subject. She mentally chuckled at your little change in subject but didn’t push it. The least she could do was answer some of your questions…even if they were boring.

“Hm… about a month or two,” she hummed, reaching out to grab her cup of tea, her fingers slightly grazing against your thigh in the process. That wasn’t intentional…in your eyes. You picked up the other tea cup and took a sip, oblivious to the enchantment Agatha had put in it. It was meant to…plant seeds for you to fall for her bit by bit.

She watched you closely as you drank the tea, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. The enchantment slowly began to take effect, the magic flowing through your body. She could see it in your eyes, how your pupils slightly dilated and your body seemed to be a bit more relaxed than before.

“This tea is really good! What did you put in it?” You gushed. She feigned innocence, shrugging her shoulders slightly as she took a sip of her own tea.

“Just some herbs I picked from my garden,” she lied, watching you closely. The effects were definitely taking effect on you, and it only took a few more moments before you would be completely in her grasp.

As you continued on talking to Agnes for the rest of the afternoon, you began to feel more attracted towards her. As if something was pulling you towards her and you couldn’t help it. You had finished your tea and now, you were practically glued to Agatha’s side. She sat on the couch, her legs stretched out across the cushions and her arms draped over the back of the couch. You were sitting right beside her, your body almost pressed up against hers. She loved how the enchantment was affecting you, making you more needy for her touch.

As adorable as she thought you were like this, she wanted to take her time with you so she walked you home to make sure you were safe even as you tried to protest, wanted to stay with her a little longer.

When she arrived at your house, she smirked at your cute pout. She chuckled and gently grabbed your chin between her fingers, forcing you to look at her.

“Now, now, doll. I have things to do and I need you to behave for me, alright?”

“Okay…will you come over tomorrow?” She smiled, gently stroking your cheek with her thumb.

“Of course I will, darling. I’ll come by tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow!”

“Good night, sweetheart,” she said with a smirk before giving you a little push towards your door, waiting for you to enter your house before she left. As you went into your home, you felt that voice in your head once again telling you what to do and how to do it. It made you wince but you did as it said, too afraid of the consequence if you didn’t. It told you to go to bed and so you did only for nightmares that didn’t belong to you to occur as if they were reality.

For the next three episodes you only fell harder for Agnes. She made the voice in your head quiet down though ever since the first day you met her, your recurring headaches got worse. She could tell you were in so much pain but was skeptical in lifting Wanda’s spell. If she lifted Wanda’s spell, she would also lift her own. She didn’t know how you would react.

You were now sitting in your living room talking with Agnes while your tv was on for background noise. You were practically sitting on her lap with how close you were to her. She had one arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close to her. She loved the way you practically clung to her. She was also having trouble keeping her hands to herself. Her hand slowly slipped underneath your shirt and gently caressed the skin of your hip, a small smirk on her lips as she watched your reaction.

“So, did you like the cookies I baked you, sweetheart?”

“Yes! They were so good. You need to teach me how to make them!” you gushed like you always did with everything she made. She chuckled at your enthusiasm, her hand slowly sliding up your hip and moving to your stomach, her fingers gently tracing small patterns against your skin. Gosh you were so cute.

“Of course I will, darling. We can bake them together some time,” she hummed, gently tugging you even closer. When you looked up at her you realized how closer the two of you were now. You looked down her lips yet didn’t do anything, too scared to make a move.

She noticed your gaze flicker down to her lips and she couldn’t help but chuckle, her hand on your hip squeezing slightly. She was patient, but she knew that you needed some encouragement. She lifted her other hand and gently tilted your chin up to look her in the eye.

“Something on your mind, darling?” Your lips parted but no words came out. She raised an eyebrow, amused at your lack of response. She leaned in a little closer, her breath warm against your lips as she spoke.

“Use your words, sweetheart. You know I like it when you speak,” she purred, her hand on your stomach slowly moving up your torso, her fingertips grazing the underside of your bra. Her praise only urged you to pull her in for a kiss. Her lips were so soft but before you could enjoy it, a bolt of pain surged through your head, making you pull away and hiss in pain. She was taken by surprise by your sudden pull away, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at you.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” She asked, her hand that was on your stomach quickly moving up to gently rub your head, trying to soothe the pain that you were experiencing.

“Uh nothing,” you pulled away from her and started to stand up, “I’m going to get some water, would you like something to drink?” She furrowed her eyebrows, noticing your hesitance to answer her question. She knew she was half responsible for your pain.

“No, I’m fine, doll. Go ahead and get some water.”

“O-okay,” you walked into your kitchen, the voice in your head turned into two and they only grew louder. You picked up a glass and poured yourself some water. As you were about to take a sip of it, the voices suddenly screamed in your head and you dropped the glass cup, making it break.

A gasp escaped Agatha’s lips as she heard the sound of glass breaking in the kitchen. She quickly got up and rushed over to you, her eyes widening as she saw you on the ground with shattered glass around you.

“Y/n!” She said worriedly, immediately crouching down to your level and gently cupping your face in her hands, “Are you okay?”

“Agnes, it hurts! Please make it stop,” your hands gripped onto her purple cardigan. She could feel her heart ache as she watched you in pain, tears forming in your eyes. She gently pulled you into her lap, wrapping her arms around you protectively.

“Shh, I know it hurts, doll. Just try to relax for me,” Her fingers swirled around your temple as she began to chant what seemed like gibberish to you and soon the pain stopped. All your memories came back to you. The ropes of red magic surrounding your house and them engulfing you. You scrambled away from Agnes’ embrace, overwhelmed with everything that was happening all at once.

She let you scramble away, watching as you began to remember everything. She could tell that you were overwhelmed and panicking, so she stayed silent for a few moments, letting you process everything.

“Wanda…she did this,” you panted out and looked up, “Who are you?” She let out a soft sigh, knowing that this moment was going to happen eventually. She looked at you with a neutral expression on her face, noticing the fear in your eyes as you stared at her.

“You can call me Agatha. I’m…a witch,”

“No,” you scrambled further away from her until your back hit your counter, “Not another witch.” She slowly stood up and took a step closer to you, her hands held up in a calming gesture.

“I’m not going to hurt you, doll,” she said softly, keeping her distance from you for now.

“Don’t call me that and stay away from me!” You grabbed a knife and pointed it at her, “I have to get out of here,” you mumbled more to yourself than her. She stopped in her tracks, a small frown on her face as she watched you grab the knife. She knew that she was still stronger than you and could easily overpower you if she wanted to. But she didn’t want to scare you further so she remained where she was.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she said firmly, her eyes flickering between the knife and your face, “Now, put the knife down, sweetheart. You’re perfectly safe with me.”

“Yeah right. You’re just like Wanda.” Her eyes narrowed at your words, a hint of irritation in her expression. She took another step closer to you, taking the knife from your grasp and closing the distance between you.

“I’m nothing like Wanda,” she said through gritted teeth, “She’s the one who trapped you in this shit town under a fake reality. I was only trying to break through her stupid hex. Truly a waste of power. But you,” she grasped your jaw, “You made me change my mind. You’re special and you’re not leaving me.”

“You’re fucking crazy!” You shoved her off and made a run for the door only for a purple magic rope making you trip. A smirk made its way to her face as you fell to the floor. The next thing you knew, you were bound to the ground, your wrists pinned to the floor by the magic ropes as well. You started to struggle against the restraints, trying to get away but it was all in vain. She slowly knelt down in front of you, grabbing your chin to force you to look at her once again.

“There’s no use fighting against them, doll. They’re strong and won’t break no matter how much you struggle.”

“I knew it. You’re truly just like her.” You spit on her face. She closed her eyes and let out a low growl as your spit landed on her face. She used her free hand to wipe it off before wrapping her hand around your throat.

“Careful, sweetheart,” she said in a low, dangerous tone, “I may not like it when you talk back to me, but I can’t deny that it’s turning me on right now.”

“Let me go, please?” She chuckled softly, her grip on your throat not loosening in the slightest.

“Oh, pet. You’re adorable when you beg. But I’m afraid I can’t let you go. Not now that I have you right where I want you,” she waved her hand and you were now on your bed, naked and tied to the headboard, making your eyes widened in terror. She slowly crawled on top of you, a satisfied smirk on her face as she took in the sight of you tied up and helpless underneath her. She straddled your hips, her hands roaming over your body, admiring every inch of you.

“Don’t touch me!” you writhed under her. She let out a taunting sound as she continued to run her hands over your body, ignoring your protests. Her touch was possessive and rough, as if she was claiming you as hers.

“You’re mine now, doll. I can touch you however I want.” Tears started to well in your eyes.

“Please just-“ you swallowed the lump in your throat, “don’t hurt me…” She softened slightly at the sight of your tears, her hand gently cupping your face as she leaned down and licked the tears that started to spill from your eyes.

“You’re so pretty when you cry, pet,” she cooed, “And I won’t hurt you…too bad.” You closed your eyes tightly as she started taking off her cardigan along with everything else and when she was done, she began to kiss down your jaw until she reached your ear.

“You will love me,” she whispered before she began chanting Latin, “Fac horologium contra. Serva quod perierat. Fac eam ama me quocunque pretio.“

“What- what are you doing?” She ignored your question and continued to chant a love spell.

“Reduc quod olim fuit meum. Omne pulchrum esse videtur.” You felt lightheaded like you were floating. When you opened your eyes again, you saw Agatha again, her forehead pressed against yours as she pounded into you. She had a look of intense focus on her face as she looked into your eyes, her hips moving at a steady pace. She could feel the effects of the spell working on you, the love and desire slowly filling your mind.

“Ag- Agatha?”

“Shh, it’s okay, pet. You completely mine now,” she answered breathlessly as she continued to thrust into you. Her eyes locked onto yours, a smirk on her face as she noticed the change in your expression from confusion to acceptance.

As you gained consciousness of your whole body, you began to feel the pleasure Agatha was giving you. You whimpered every time her cock rubbed against your g-spot. She smirked even more as she heard your whimpers, her pace increasing slightly as she leaned down to kiss and nip at your neck.

“There we go, doll. Just relax and let me take care of you,” she whispered against your skin.

“I…I am yours,” you gasped out.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” she purred, her hand gripping your hip tightly as she continued to pound into you.

“You’re all mine, and no one else’s. Your body, your mind, your soul. All mine to use as I please.”

“I think I’m gonna-“

“Come for me, pet,” she growled, her grip on your hip tightening even more as she continued to hit that spot inside you over and over again. She came along with you, spilling her load deep inside, finalizing her possession over you. She leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, possessive kiss as she rode out her orgasm, her tongue slipping into your mouth and dominating you completely.

“Humph…” Once she broke the kiss, she pulled out of you and laid down next to you, pulling you close against her body. She began to run her fingers through your hair, a satisfied smile on her face.

“You belong to me now, pet. All that’s left to do is take Wanda’s power. That way you and I can live happily ever after,” she said, watching as the reflection of her powers settled in your eyes.

“All yours~”

Taglist; @polaris-likethestar @wandasreallover @oh-no-bummer @phixiesworld @eliscannotdance @venomhimbo @aka-patsy @scoliobean @chlondykebar @marvelwomenarehot0 @mgruiz @daenerys713

[r4spb3rr13s]

i saw the news :( however i have come to re-enter! So my mcbling angel, could we pretty please get a part 3 of meet mcbling hotties with maybe shigiraki, sabi, maybe a little twice, maaaybe a little gentle criminal.... i luv u and ur my bae as well cutie >3<

- 🍥 anon

villains meeting their mcbling gf

♱ shigaraki, twice

♱ pt.1 here pt.2 here

notes: dabi is in part one!! also this may be ooc 😔 and sorry bby but i have no clue how to write gentle criminal 😓

Tomura is in his usual spot, staring the TV down with enough rage to burn holes in the screen. Naturally, it’s because All Might is on screen. Like always.

The bar is in a low hum, filled with smoke from Dabi’s refusal to step out to huff on his cigarette. Spinner and Toga are playing cards, and her giggles bounce off the walls. Other than that, it’s fairly quiet.

Until the door creaks open. Then it’s silent.

And there… you stood. Awkwardly.

Tomura’s head snapped towards you with a sickening crunch resounding through the air. Any words he had reering up are stuck in his throat, though.

The light is shaping you like an angel. A very promiscuous angel, that is. A tight, pink dress hugs your curves and the platform wedges you have on accentuate every step your fake-tanned legs take.

“Uh… Himiko?”

Said girl squeals, and her chair scratches across the floor like nails on a chalkboard as she jumps up. Tomura watches as she runs up to you and wraps you in a hug.

“What the fuck…” Dabi trails off, eyes pointed at Tomura. Everyone is looking at Tomura, trying to gage his reaction. It snaps him out of his stupor.

“Toga, who is this?” He rasps out, pointing a lazy knuckle at you. His eyes barely flit over you, but when they do, you see a small bit of pink blossom on his pale face.

It’s weirdly cute.

Himiko squeezes you so hard you think she might suffocate you to death. I mean, you wouldn’t put it past her, but still.

“This is Y/n!!”

She is met with blank stares.

You roll your eyes and shrug her off, making her pout. Taking a cautious step forward, you catch Tomura’s eye - you know exactly who he is.

You’ve admired him for a while, and the League, in silence. You’ve been on chat rooms with a false IP address, watched their dark-web videos, heard their lackeys talking in the darker parts of town.

Himiko found you when you were talking to one of the lackeys, and surprise, surprise, took a liking to you. She gushed about the League, and weirdly…

You wanted in.

You strode forward, ignoring the room’s eyes on you - you were just focused on Tomura Shigaraki.

He watched you with stiff, darting red eyes. It was like he couldn’t decide where to rest his eyes - everytime he moved his gaze, there was your soft, glowy skin or something pink or patterned or your soft hair-

“Y/n L/n,” You said and held your hand out.

Tomura watched your hand as he leant on his own hand. His lip curled and you faltered. But, he fished out a thick-lined glove, slipped it on, and grabbed your hand.

His eyes fell on yours as your hands shook. The pink on his face was almost the same colour as your dress, and his cracked lip twitched.

“I’m here to join, by the way.” You clarify, heat rising to your own cheeks.

Your hand is still in his. Tomura notices and drops you like a hot pan, quickly looking away. He mutters a small, ‘okay’ and notions for a pen from Kurogiri - another member you’re familiar with.

Tomura scribbled something down with his thick glove on, muttering under his breath in a raspy, crisp voice. The sound cuts through the thick air and makes the hair on the back of your neck.

He stops writing and holds out the paper to you. It’s… a number. You almost facepalm.

You cock a brow, and Tomura goes pink again, but refuses to look at you.

He clears his throat, itching his neck absent mindedly. “I’m busy now. Call me later and we’ll talk about your membership.”

:::

Jin is tired. Spent. Exhausted. Fatigued. He’s practically swaying on his feet as he breathes in the smoke from his cigarette. He nods at Dabi as he walks past and enters the dingy bar.

If he could just close his eyes-

A loud whistle rings through the air, and for a startling moment, Jin thinks he’s getting hit on by the builders across the street. Until you come into view.

Your confident stride falters and he watched with an open jaw as you pause to scream at the men in hi-vis.

There’s a small, douchey part of him that can’t even blame them - you’re gorgeous!

Your tattered denim shorts sit low on your hips, and the majority of your torso is on show in the low light of dusk. A small, pink tube top is wrapped around your chest, and big jewellery jangled with every finger you jab as you scream.

Your verbal assault on the builders finally halts when they let out a hurried apology and decide to get back to work. With a sigh, you push your hair out of your face and move on.

Well, you would if there wasn’t another guy in your way.

He’s tall, muscular and blond, with eyebags that rivalled the purple of your velvet bag. The smoke from the cigarette in between his fingers is curling around his neck like a choker, and brought stark attention to his agape mouth. You scoff.

“What? Want your turn?”

“Yes please- no, no thanks-” He barks out, then covers his mouth. Pink spreads across his cheeks from under his hand, and you cock a brow.

“…Yes or no?”

“Yes-no-”

The poor guy seemed torn. He was muttering to himself now, back rigid and face pink. It was… endearing in a way.

You cast a short glance back to the builders, and Jin takes the moment to drink in the size of the silver hoops hung either side of your face. He could probably fit his hand through them, they’re so big. Or-

“Listen, you’re cute… so I’ll give you number,” You mutter and take a short step towards him. Your sparkly eyes search his face, and he curtly nods, still as pink as bubblegum. “Okay, just, if they ask, I was giving you directions.”

Again, he nods. Like a well behaved dog, you think.

The poor man is left in a mental battle watching you leave. He does know for sure, though, the paper clutched in his hand with your number on is becoming his most sacred possession.

:::

notes: THIS SHIT IS NOT PROOFREAD IM SORRY 😭

taglist: @marzkqx @aespie @itzlittlemissperfect @im-so-tired-sorry @mangalovesanime-blog @livingmydreamlife5555

[reysdriver]

Hey darlin'! I just saw your one-shots and i REALLY love them!! I need morr about Eddie with Hopper!Reader <33 Please!! A fluff or a smut where the Reader have to deal with her father. Hope you can answer. Have a nice day!! ✨️

-🩷

You and Eddie try to have a chill night in, but it's difficult when you have the world's most paranoid chief of police as a father — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: none

words: 1.2k

a/n: thanks for submitting a request! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been so busy lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't figure out how to end it lmao but I really hope you like this fic!!

Even though your dad knew about you and Eddie dating, he was definitely not as okay with it as you would have hoped, but honestly more than you had expected. 

He had met Eddie a few times since he found out you were in romantic cahoots with the familiar criminal, and despite your fears, they had gotten along quite well despite their history and their differences. But no matter how many things they actually had in common, no father would fully trust Eddie Munson to be alone with his little girl. 

“Door open three inches!” Your dad called from the couch. “You know the rules!”

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the bed to open the door to Hopper’s liking. 

The door was open three inches, and you swore that it was the draft causing the door to move slightly, but you knew your dad would never believe you. 

“Seriously, Dad?” You asked him. 

“Rules are rules.” He confirmed. “If you don’t like it, then the boyfriend can go.”

You let out a heavy, dramatic sigh before returning to your boyfriend, who was currently sketching out a Dungeons and Dragons character based on you for his new campaign. 

Eddie looked up from his paper when you sat back down next to him. “You can do a lot with three inches, you know?”

You put a finger over his mouth—which he playfully tried to bite—and you shushed him while holding back a laugh at his incredibly stupid, albeit funny, joke. 

“He’s gonna hear you, and he’s gonna drag you out of here. Keep drawing.”

He put the finishing touches on his design, then let out a sound of satisfaction over it before turning the notebook so you could see it better. 

“I think I did pretty good.” Your boyfriend proclaimed. “She’s almost as pretty as you.”

Oh, how you lucked out with this mysterious dork. You thanked him by pressing a quick kiss on his cheek before your dad became suspicious of you two once again. 

“You think I should get it as some ink?” Eddie asked you. 

“Like, you want to get it tattooed?”

Eddie nodded, eyes going back and forth between you and the cartoon version of you that he just made. 

“Absolutely not.” You replied. 

“What? Why not? Do you not love me enough to let me tattoo you on me?”

He was ridiculous, staring at you with big, fake puppy dog eyes and a pleading lip. 

“Of course I love you, but as your girlfriend, I also need to stop you from doing stupid things.”

“What if I keep your tattoo separate from the creepy skulls and spiders?”

Well, that was an offer you almost couldn’t refuse. Even though it was tempting, you would never let him know that he can get to you like that, so you played it cool.

“Ask me again in a year.”

His face erupted into a devilish smile and he held his hands to his chest like a cartoon character in love. 

“I’m getting a tramp stamp of my girlfriend in a year!”

Before you could protest his proclamation, he pulled you into his arms in what you hoped was just a teasing gesture rather than a genuine expression of excitement for something you were certainly not going to let happen. 

Just a second later, your dad cleared his throat very pointedly, which practically frightened you out of your boyfriend’s arms. 

“El wants to watch a movie.” He announced. “Come watch with us.”

You sat up and shook your head lightly. “Um, no thanks, Dad. We’ll pass on that.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow and looked at Eddie’s arm around your waist. “You have something better to do?”

It was at that point that you knew him telling you about your sister and the movie was an order, not an invitation. You bit the inside of your cheek and luckily, Eddie spoke up before you could say something snarky. 

“A movie sounds great, chief. Count us in.”

“Good.” Hopper said curtly before turning around to the living room. 

Eddie stood up and started teasingly pulling you off the bed. You laid down and let out an annoyed groan, resisting his attempts to move you. 

“C’mon, babe, movie time.” Eddie encouraged. 

“It’s just gonna be The Wild Bunch. That’s one of their favourite movies and I know El’s been wanting to see it again lately.” You mumbled. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”

���Well, your dad might never let me back in your house if he thinks I’m trying anything with his daughter in the other room, so we have to. Plus, I like The Wild Bunch too.”

Your face formed an exaggerated frown as you finally got up off the bed. 

Eddie smiled and escorted you to the living room. And although you had just started to build up excitement within you for this movie night, it already got worse. 

El was in her favourite recliner—the VHS case for The Wild Bunch was on her lap, you called it—but your dad had plopped himself down in the exact middle of the couch. Not only did you have to watch a movie with your family instead of chilling with your boyfriend, but you couldn’t even sit next to him because your dad hates the idea of you having fun. 

Before you knew it, you were in a full on stare-down with the Hawkins chief of police. 

“Take a seat.” He said passive aggressively. 

“I want to sit next to Eddie, Dad. Could you move over?”

He shook his head. “I’m not falling for any of your tricks. I was a teenager once.”

“Yeah, like a thousand years ago.” You mumbled. 

The comment was quiet but your dad still heard it. 

“Careful, any attitude and I’ll assume it came from the moron and he won’t be allowed back in the house.”

You looked over at Eddie with a defeated expression on your face. He looked back at you, sympathetic and willing to comply—the latter was a complete switch from his normal mood.

Your boyfriend understood completely why your dad was worried about you and Eddie dating, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Of course, Eddie was willing to do whatever he could to seem like the boyfriend every parent would want for their daughter—he really was, some people just couldn’t look past the exterior shell to see it—so he held his tongue and went along with anything. 

The two of you sat down on opposite sides of the couch, separated by your relentless father. 

“Alright, El, play the movie.” Hopper said. 

He then leaned back and kept his eyes on the television in front of you all. 

Eddie soon caught your gaze from across the couch, and he stretched his arm behind his head, oh so conveniently placing it a few inches from your shoulder.

You grinned at him, keeping it subtle, and took his hand in yours. 

The two of you watched the rest of the film like that, holding hands in that slightly uncomfortable way, and the night wasn’t as insufferable as it seemed like it was going to be. All thanks to Eddie, of course.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Angelic Interference

TFW & Winchester little sister!reader

Requested by @s0urw00lf

Synopsis: Sam and Dean don’t want you dating a hunter, so you try to get the angel on your side.

“Hey Sammy?”

Sam looked up when he heard your voice calling for him. You were standing in the doorway to the library, leaning against the frame and trying to look innocent and pleading. Sam recognized the look instantly; you wanted something.

“What is it, squirt?”

You shuffled further into the room, and he noticed you glancing around the room subtly—you were making sure Dean wasn’t there, Sam was sure of it.

“I was wondering if I could go out with a friend tonight?”

Ah.

“And I assume this friend is a boy?” Sam phrased it like a question, but you both knew it wasn’t.

“He happens to be.” You shrugged innocently.

“And who is this boy?” Sam wondered.

“That’s the good part,” you said, but Sam could tell from your tone that he wouldn’t think this was “the good part.” “You already kinda know him.”

Sam frowned.

“I know him? So, he’s a hunter then.” It wasn’t like he had any teenage non-hunting acquaintances.

“Well, his dad is.” You cringed—you could tell already that this wasn’t going well. “And he’s been on a couple of hunts too, I guess.”

“So, he’s a hunter,” Sam repeated.

“Who’s a hunter?” Dean asked as he entered the room.

“No one,” you said quickly, but not quick enough.

“Y/N’s new boyfriend,” Sam said at the exact same time.

“Boyfriend?” Dean was instantly stiff as a board, and you nearly groaned.

“Thanks a lot, Sam,” you huffed quietly, before turning to Dean. “He’s not my boyfriend. It’s just one date.”

“Oh, so it’s a date now,” Sam said, and you were really starting to want to hit him. “Before you said he was a friend.”

“He is a friend!” You argued. “He just…he just asked me out today, it’s the first time, ok?”

“No,” Dean said. “Not ok. You’re not old enough to date, and if you were it wouldn’t be a hunter. It’s too dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” You scoffed.

“We kept you as far away from hunting as we could for a reason,” Dean continued before you could argue. “We don’t want you near it, you know that.”

“Getting involved with a hunter is a bad idea,” Sam added.

“You’re being ridiculous!” You yelled. “I live with hunters! Can’t get much more involved than that!”

“Apparently you can,” Dean grumbled.

“It’s just not the best idea.” Sam was trying to soothe the situation, his voice much gentler than either you or Dean.

“We’ll see about that,” you huffed, closing your eyes.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked.

“Getting an objective opinion, now shush,” you said. “Cas! Cas, we need you!”

A flutter of wings announced the arrival of your angel friend.

“Is something wrong?” Cas asked, worried but calming down quickly when he saw no immediate danger.

“Sam and Dean are being completely crazy,” you said, but unfortunately Cas couldn’t hear you because Dean was saying at the same time—

“Could you please get her to listen to reason.” And Sam was saying—

“I think we need a mediator here.”

“Whoa, whoa.” Cas held up his hands, overwhelmed. “One at a time. Y/N, you’re the one who called me. What’s wrong?”

Dean looked like he was going to protest not being allowed to speak first, but Sam stopped him.

“A friend asked me out on a date, but they won’t let me go.” You glared accusingly at Sam and Dean, until Cas cleared his throat to get your attention.

“Ok. Sam and Dean, why don’t you want her to go?”

“Because he’s a hunter,” Dean said forcefully. “It’s just going to put her in more danger.”

“I already live with—“ you started, but Cas held up a hand and you shut up.

“I think I understand,” Cas sighed. “Y/N, you are already friends with this boy, correct?” Cas asked, and you nodded. “So I don’t see how going on a date with him wouldn’t put you in any more danger.”

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Sam stopped him.

“She’s still too young,” Sam said.

“That of course is your decision.” Cas shrugged. “But I’m almost certain that the two of you were dating before you were her age.” When Sam and Dean looked at each other to consider Cas’s words, Cas himself glanced at you and winked. You grinned back at him, but dropped the grin immediately when Dean’s eyes turned back to you.

“One date,” he announced grumpily. “But he’s gotta come here first so we can meet him.”

Dean struggled to keep up his grumpy face when you squealed and went in for a hug.

“Ok, ok,” he huffed, hugging you back and refusing to let you see the way his lips were twitching. “But if I don’t like him, he goes.”

“Deal!” You grinned, pulling away. “You’ll love him, I promise! Thanks guys, thanks Cas!” And with that, you ran off to get ready.

“She’s gonna be the death of me,” Dean said, shaking his head. “I just know it.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

[occamstfs]

Ain't No Place For A City Boy

Well this one was quite a bit longer than I intended it to be, Here's a ranch hand TF! Hope y'all enjoy and Happy Eclipse Day! -Occam

Day One

Buckley would never deign to visit a ranch of his own volition. Apparently once he left for college his dad visited this place quite frequently, but a habitual indoor kid Buckley never sought to join him. His father recently passed and his last request for Buckley was to give this place a chance. Homebody he may be Buckley was not going to ignore a deathbed request to just try some manual labor so here he is, luggage packed standing outside Stockman August’s Ranch. 

He fights back a grimace as he reminds himself to keep an open mind, eyes going slightly wide as a massive man starts approaching him from the homestead. He repeats various mantras under his breath; I can do anything for a week yeah? It’s for dad, it’s not like they’ll have me do something I don’t want to do.

Buckley throws up a performative smile as August approaches close enough to see it, he stands there frozen waiting for the man to offer some pleasantry. He throws out a hand to shake and asks, “You Austin’s son?” steely eyes under a furrowed brow observing and assessing the weak man before him. Buckley quickly goes to shake August’s hand, doing his best to manifest the strong handshake his dad had always endeavored to teach him but his hand simply cannot near the strength this man expects of his ranch hands. August makes no attempt to hide his own grimace looking at the sorry state of Buckley.

He turns to go back to the ranch, hands in his pockets expecting Buckley to get his own luggage as he shouts back, “gotta room for ya upstairs. Ya missed dinner, but we’ll get a plate for made. Work starts tomorrow.” Buckley just stares blankly as the cowboy wanders off, biting his tongue as he forces a smile onto his face one more. If he keeps it up maybe he’ll trick himself to not be stewing in irritation. He struggles behind August with his heavy luggage trailing behind, taking great care not to disparage this whole experience as he feels his open mind already being tested. 

Finally stumbling into the doors, Buckley finds a friendlier face in a younger ranch-hand Beau. All smiles, Beau welcomes him to the Ranch “Yew must be August yeah? August said yew’d be around, did’ya need some help with yer bags?” Buckley firmly latches onto the helping hand wordlessly taking all the help Beau is willing to offer, blushing as the man easily hauls all of his bags up the stairs and into his room.

Finding his accommodations, Buckley is less than pleased that there are three beds in the room. The light drops from his eyes as he realizes what a scam this whole mess is. He’s paying to share a room with two men? Seeing disdain painted across Buckley’s expression he quickly goes to assure him, “Hey now, ‘s not so bad Buck! I know there’re three beds but it’ll just be you and me in here and cross my heart I’m a terrific roommate! Or I was, uh, in university?” Buckley squints his eyes at the man before him, seeing his eyes go blank as if he’s adrift in his own mind and scratching at his chin. Rather than addressing his clear state of confusion, Buckley instead goes to correct his new roommate, “It’s Buckley actually, if you don’t mind.”

This snaps Beau out of it as he returns to assuaging Buckley without missing a step, “Sorry partner! I’ll try to remember that. How ‘bout I go on and get yew something to eat. Think there’s still some chili left. ‘ll that work for yew?” Buckley nods and Beau quickly makes to grab him a bowl from downstairs, repeating Buckley’s name to himself under his breath to avoid calling him Buck. In his absence Buckley begins to less than sneakily snoop around the room for anything he can learn about this horrible camp or his theoretically not abhorrent roommate. It is shockingly hard to find any personal effects of Beau, he thought he saw a degree on the wall but upon a double-take and closer inspection it just turned out to be a list of chores for the upcoming week.

As he inches over to Beau’s part of the room he smells something horrible from his closet, sure he can quickly sneak a peak before his roommate returns he opens the door to see pair after pair of dirty overalls filling the floor of the closet. As he opens the door a few spill out into the room proper as Beau returns with supper for Buckley. He looks away out of embarrassment and exhales out of his nose, before chewing out Buckley, “now why’d yew hafta go and do that there Buck- Buckley. Coulda just asked ‘S plain rude.” He stands tall over Buckley as he walks over with food. Buckley sees genuine anger appear in the eyes of the man towering over him before it fades to a smile and he pats Buckley on the back, “Not that yew’ll mind soon,” laughing, “I’m sure after a week here there’ll be at least this much laundry!” He rolls his eyes at this and begins to ask Beau about the ranch.

“How long have you been visiting here Beau?” Beau smiles and answers as he puts the bowl down, “I've been here for years bud! Originally was just a visitor but I loved it so much August went ‘n hired me and I’ve loved it ever since.”

Buckley’s eyes narrow in suspicion as he starts to eat, “I see, so you worked here while doing your studies?” Beau just briefly looks in confusion before bursting out in laughter, “my studies? As if kid, I ain’t a city boy like you ha! Anythin’ I need to know I learned from August! I’m sure you’ll learn a thing or two from him as well, certainly already eatin’ like a country boy haha!”

Buckley looks down to find he’s already nearly done with this bowl that had enough meat to stuff him two times over and burps in embarrassment. How could he possibly have scarfed it down so quickly without even noticing. Beau laughs once more seeing how embarrassed the newbie is and goes on to explain exactly how things work around the ranch. “It’ll be a long day tomorrow but I’m sure you won’t do nuthin’ too hard. Probably gardenin’ s’where he usually throws weaklings like you. Oh, uh sorry ‘bout that Buck- ah! Buckley.” 

Buckley smiles kindly at his roommate as he stumbles through this attempt at helping. It’s not like he minds being called a weakling, and if all he has to do tomorrow is garden he certainly won’t mind. He yawns as he continues to listen to Beau, slightly tilting over as he starts to fall asleep. Surely there wasn’t something in that chili, he thinks as he tries to stay conscious. Seeing him begin to drift asleep Beau goes to catch him and carry him to a bed, “boy all that eatin’ sure tired yew out huh. Dontcha worry kid, I’ll wake yew in time for chores tomorrow.”

In his presumably chili-based stupor Buckley dreams only briefly. He’s back in the office watching as papers and contracts pile up on the desk. Phones ring incessantly and a crowd of people demanding things of him as they walk towards him shouting. He turns over in bed uncomfortably as in the dream he turns to look out the window and sees an open field with horses running free. He sees Beau riding a stallion and motioning for him to join. Or it looks like Beau? He looks larger, his beard has filled out.  Before Buckley can even think to react he’s awakened by his roommate, blushing as he realized he dreamed of him beckoning. There must have been something weird in that chili.

Day Two

Hearing August downstairs Beau sprints out the door to hear the day's orders. Not having the awareness, or at the moment desire, to rush to attention Buckley takes his time getting ready. As he changes into an outfit to garden he finds himself thinking of his roommate. Didn’t Beau seem taller standing over his bead to wake him up today. He sure didn’t have that beard yesterday, though he did in the dream. God, did that shirt really flatter his pecs as well. Buckley finishes getting ready and struggles to shift his attention from the warmth growing in his crotch. Maybe there’s something to be gained from visiting this ratty camp after all. 

Stepping out the door he bumps directly into August who just grunts in response. Buckley falls backwards to the floor and the Stockman just glares down at him as a command issues from deep in his chest, “Be ready tomorrow morning. Don’t care who yer daddy is, I ain't gonna let some city pansy sit around and distract my boys. Today yer gardenin’ do good and maybe you’ll get to try some real man’s work tomorrow.” Buckley recoils as August spits on the floor next to him, sneering down and grumbling about how much he hates city tourists. Buckley grits his teeth as a strange new feeling begins to grow in his chest. 

Rather than the persistent voice in his head demanding he just back out of this hellhole, after bumping into the Stockman he finds himself wanting to prove the old man wrong. He rolls up his sleeves and rushes to the vegetable garden and gets to work. He doesn’t question how he knows the way or how proficient he seems at harvesting and tending to the vegetable garden. His mind grows pleasurably numb as he roots out weeds and plucks out food enough for tomorrow's dinner. He feels his mouth water in excitement at the upcoming meal as he wipes sweat from his brow, getting dirt all over his face and jarring him out of his apparent trance state. 

Buckley looks out in shock at the garden that he has somehow expertly cared for. There’s a large basket full of greens ready to be washed and a pile of trimmings as proving h that he’s even pruned the garden. He stumbles back knowing he couldn’t possibly have done that to any degree of success, with any amount of self-interrogation he would find that even greater than shock was a fear of disappointing August. His mind recovers both from the numbness and the shock as he goes to check whatever damage he’s done. Looking closely however he is filled with a degree of pride in his work, he’s really done a superb job here! He grins to himself seeing what adept work his hands have worked, consciously or not. No real surprise though, after all he’s been doing this for- Uh, well this can’t be the first time he’s gardened right? Did his dad teach him how to do this? He must have. Buckley wipes dust from his hands as he looks out to see whatever work the other ranch hands have gotten done. 

His gaze turns strangely wistful as he sees them herding the animals through the pasture. Just like in his dream he sees Beau atop a stallion controlling the beast like the paragon of a ranch hand, sweat dripping from his brow as he pulls down a bandana to smile and wave at Buckley. He starts to shout “Hey Buck-” before being interrupted by a sharp whistle from August standing at the edge of the field. Every man, Buckley included, knows that must mean dinner’s ready. He rushes to change into something not covered in dirt and finds an outfit on his bed, he didn’t remember packing this ratty tshirt or hat, maybe it’s Beau doing a favor. Regardless he throws it on so he can try to make it on time to dinner.

Arriving just in time the Stockman gives him a curt nod and gestures to the empty seat next to Beau. He happily sits and meets the other ranch men. He can’t feel deep inside that something about these boisterous men should put him off but the thought slides off his mind as their energy only riles him up more. The oldest ranch hand shouts over the rest to chat with Buckley, “Now Buck, you shoulda seen Beau when he first started workin’ here. Was a beanpole of a kid he was and look at him now!” Beau looks away from Buckley as he tries to hide his embarrassment, this however only highlights the power of his traps and neck that only entices Buckley more. Staring at his roommate he doesn’t even think to correct the old man for calling him Buck.

One of the other ranch hands tosses Buckley a beer, normally he would never stoop to drink the swill but if there’s nothing else handy he might as well. He finds himself thinking that he could use the calories, as if that’s something he’s ever been concerned about. Buckley starts to down the bottle before Beau puts his arm over him and shakes him shouting, “Look attcha Buck, er Buckley, already one of the guys! And what’d I say yer already less prissy, got some dirt right on yer face.” Beau goes to do Buckley a favor and wipe it off when he finds it's not dirt but sideburns growing on a face that was unmissably clean-shaven this morning. Buckley feels it too and quickly goes to rub his cheek in shock.

At the head of the table August sits silently and takes in all the chaos happening in front of him. His small horde of ranch hands all scarfing down their meals and chugging their beer so they may get back out there and finish their chores. He rubs his gray stubble as he appraises the spirit and physicality of the men before him. His eyes shift to Beau, pleased at how well he’s already filling out his clothes, clearly ready to move up a size or two. 

He then looks towards the freshest meat sitting next to Beau. He was impressed with the work the kid got done, not of his own accord of course, August’s eyes sparkle imperceptibly as he feels proud of his own work spurring the man to be better. This ain’t no place for some city boy, but Buckley’s already starting to carry his own weight. August wanted to see just how fast he might go beyond that. He’s Austin’s kid after all August thinks before grumbling to demand the table's attention as he walks to stand behind Buckley. “Tomorrow. Buck’ll join the rest of ya in the fields. Ya’ll go on and show him the ropes then. Needs to get rest so he can start real work. He’ll go on and turn in now.”

Buckley starts to speak and protest, not of the opportunity but of being told to turn in early. He opens his mouth to speak but turning to look at his Stockman he feels the weight of sleep overcome his mind. His eyes grow heavy and his stomach grumbles. Bickley turns to find that he has well finished his dinner. All the other ranch hands have vacated as he sits in front of a few discarded cans of beer and multiple servings of the meal, August pats his shoulder and dismisses him, “see ya tomorrow youngin don’t let me down. Don’t let your old man down. Become the man you ought to be.”

Buckley stumbles up the stairs drunkenly and bloated before collapsing into his bed once more. Immediately drifting to sleep he feels his body lie there dead as a rock as a pervasive soreness and itch fills his subconscious. This easily shifts to a primal lust-filled hunger. The feeling of his chest itching against his bedsheets becomes grinding against Beau’s body in his mind. His stubble pushing out into a scruffy beard in the waking world goes unnoticed as dreams of his tongue forcing itself into his roommate's mouth, knocking the hat off his head as he throws all his weight against him. The musk of many hard-days work and that of a lustful slumber merge as a copious amount of sweat swiftly stains Buckley’s sheets. 

The ache in his stomach begins to dissipate as his body forces itself to grow. He humps his bed as he does Beau in his dream, each time his arms press larger. His scrawny chest begins to grow real weight, each grind into his bed straining his new t-shirt as it too begins to change, revealing the growing pecs as well as hair pushing out all over his chest, and a forest that is never to smell fresh again growing in his pits. His cock was already filling his jeans when he collapsed into the bed, as his jeans grow to accommodate his growing waistline they struggle to keep up with the constant surges of growth in his crotch. He moans loud enough to wake his sleeping roommate as he loses control in his dream. Beau smirks to himself as he knows what it’s like to get so riled up and palms his own cock wondering what Buckley’s dreaming of.

Day Three

Buckley awakens at the first light of day, his hand shoved in his pants covered in still drying cum. He hops out of bed wiping his hand on his sheets and he tosses on a hat before racing down the stairs, excited for another- No. his first day on the ranch outright. He passes some new luggage in the living room, just like that he had brought all that time ago. He briefly tries to remember why he didn’t think to grab clothes from it this morning before remembering instead he wasted time watching Beau stretch and get ready. He meets August on the porch who hands him a mug of coffee and sending him off towards a stable. 

Just as the day before Buckley’s eyes glaze over and his mind is overcome with a comforting thoughtless buzz as he starts going about acting with an unconscious precision. He pulls all the levers and gates to release the cows to graze. He wanders around checking for any peculiarities of the stable, confident he would notice anything out of place, his foggy mind obscuring his personality growing brasher and more self-assured by the second. He meanders alongside the cows, petting them all in the right spots as if he reared them himself. He feels his lips move without his input, calling specific cows by name, recognizing them as soon as their names leave his mouth.

While his mind remains adrift he finds himself thinking once more of his dream and Beau, his Beau? He tries to maintain focus on inspecting the cows, but as his pulse quickens as the thought of disappointing August hits him like a shot of adrenaline, he is no longer able to move unknowingly as his thoughts race and his hands shake as he remembers. He stares at his shaking hands as they are unquestionably too large, dark hair crawls up from his wrists making way to soon grow onto his upper arms. He sees the muscle filling his biceps quiver and flex as he ambulates at all. He puts his face in his hands, feeling the beard scratch against them, as he tries to recall further. His shirt suddenly itches beyond imagination and it tosses it to the floor, baring his chest as it expands even more powerfully with each heaving breath. Hair thickening in dark waves down the whole of his torso.

His ears ring as if there was an explosion as he struggles to stay standing, this isn’t who he is. Right? He’s been here for like a week? His mind blaring as it contradicts itself saying he has been here even less than that but also so much longer. Buckley stamps his feet down in rage as he tries to remember any truth at all. He, he was supposed to train to be a rancher today, right? But it can’t be his first day, he did his part like he’s a professional. He is a professional no? He’s been doing this for- He can’t remember, he was gardening just yesterday wasn’t he?

Buckley scans the farm looking for Beau, or August, anyone who can offer some immediate answer. Instead the only figure he can see is one he can’t recognize, some kid that’s doing the gardening. Buckley sees him grimace as he makes his way through the garden, harvesting quickly but efficiently. He rolls his eyes, sure that he could do a better job than whoever that little bitch is. The thought that he is a spitting image for the man that Buckley was not but twenty-four hours ago does not even begin to occur to him. For Buckley is not that man anymore. He looks down to see veins trailing across his arms, pumped from the effort of moving hay bales and readying all the dairy cow equipment. 

August whistles once more calling everyone inside for dinner, this time Buckley can’t bring himself to care enough to change or even throw some deodorant on. Beau’s prediction of it being one week before the man would put work before hygiene has been blown out of the water, but neither could begin to recall. For this is who Buckley is, this is who he has always been. At dinner he is sitting directly across from the new gardener, Colton.

He stares daggers into him as the crew begins to dig in. He isn’t quite sure why he feels such rage at the weak man across from him, but it only grows worse as he starts to scarf his dinner. Words that August never even said to him echo in his head as he stares at the young man eating, this ain’t no place for a city boy. Seeing his roommates eyes darken under his thickening eyebrows Beau hits him in the shoulder, “Hey now play nice, Colton’ll be staying in our room so y’all two need to get along, right Buckley?” Averting his rage at the anxious twink across from him Buckley takes sudden umbridge at being called Buckley.

“Y’know, I think you may have had a point yesterday, Beau. Think it’s fittin’ if I just go by Buck.” Beau smiles at his roommate, playfully punching his arm before pulling him into a side hug. Neither man notices as an accent has suddenly imposed itself onto Buck’s voice. Across though Colton rolls his eyes as he sees the cowboys staring at each other so intently, more focused on them than the haste at which he is cleaning his plate.

Tonight, rather than sending one ranch hand to get some rest, August decides to treat his crew and give everyone the rest of the day off. To celebrate, all indulge in even heavier drinking than usual, Colton as the newbie is required to prove himself to the other ranch hands as Beau grabs a couple six packs and motions for Buck to follow him. The two head off towards a quiet corner of the ranch, where August would not be able to watch and the two just sit together and talk. There is a palpable gravity between their bodies as they sit and watch the sunset. Buck wants nothing more than to give in but his mind is suddenly murky once more. He struggles to ask Beau, “Beau, what, or how long have I been here at the ranch?”

Beau tossing back the last of a bottle just looks coily at his partner, “Now yew know as well as I do hon-” 

“No! I just want you to tell me.”

Taken aback Beau opens a bottle and offers it to Buck before continuing, “Well, y’see it’s just a little foggy ain’t it?” Buck’s eyes widen as if he’s cracked a case before saying as much though his mind is thrown into disarray as Beau goes on, “I remember you being new, but also, you’ve done worked here for years Buck?” The words hit Buck’s mind like a hammer on the anvil, the idea of him working at this ranch searing red hot into his mind as he coughs up the beer he was drinking. His eyes glaze over immediately as he drops the beer bottle, he doesn’t remember anything else of the night, at least not in the conscious world.

The last words of reality he remembers; Haven’t you worked here for years Buck. what is his mind to do besides stew on them, now given total creative liberty. He remembers first coming to the camp, he was the weak scrawny dweeb, but that was a time so far removed from the present that it may as well not be him at all, he was surely a teen at the time anwyay yeah? In his dream he remembers meeting Beau very soon after, the two hit it off immediately and become the exemplar ranch hands they clearly are today. Bizarrely he remembers seeing his father with August, but this is, it’s a dream? Surely his subconscious is just throwing spaghetti at the wall. He sees himself caring for the cows, feeding chickens, showing Colton how to garden. He sees Beau tending to the stallions, helping out in the kitchen, repairing the stables as is often needed.

He sees wrinkles start to appear in the corners of their eyes, white hairs start to speckle his beard as the years fly by in his mind. He watches as both he and Beau grow and maintain their bodies, every day working hard for the ranch, for August and Austin, and becoming the ideal that any cowboy, that any man should be. He remembers playfully mocking Beau as he went in to get another tattoo. He remembers Beau teasing him for the pride he takes in sculpting his body, and for plucking out his gray hairs. He is taken back to the first time they had sex, taking an uncharacteristic break from working in the stables to fuck behind the pens. His mind is filled with encounter after encounter, day after day of working hard together and retiring each night to the same room. He sees himself now, body still, lying in a bed next to a man he has clearly loved for longer than the entire life he lived before the ranch.

Day Four

Thus is how awakens. Nude in his thankfully private bedroom with his partner, his lover, Beau. He brushes Beau to help him awaken as he throws on some comfortable clothes for another day of work. Scratching his beard and offering a large dad yawn he makes his way to the common area where he sees Colton already dozing once more, lazy freeloader. Inspecting the new kid though he is pleasantly surprised to see that he must be going through a growth spurt, his midriff is exposed and he seems to be scratching his chest in his sleep. August must really know what he’s doin’ hm.

Speaking of the devil August rounds the corner and looks to Buck with a twinkle of pride in his eye. Both for the work he has done and will continue to do, and at the vitality and virility of the man before him. His father would be proud. Beau soon follows after, squeezing Buck’s shoulder and tossing his forgotten cowboy hat on the couch next to him, his scent in the air as he stomps by is more than enough to get Buck to think with his balls. Before he’s too far gone though August clears his throat and goes over the plans with the two clearly seasoned ranchers. 

Buck squeezes Beau’s ass as he heads out to the pastures, excited to prevail through another day at the ranch. He feels an outpouring of gratitude towards his dad for bringing him to this place. It made him who he is and he is more than eager to show other men exactly what they can be. No, what they should be.

[amongemeraldclouds]

But Daddy I Love Him

Mattheo and the Slytherin boys rescue you from your father who held you captive one day before your wedding.

Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader ft. The Slytherin Boys

Warning: fluff, one use of y/n, cursing, the boys being chaotic. Inspired by the Taylor Swift song with the same title.

✿ Masterlist | 872 words

“Can’t this bloody car go any faster?” Mattheo asked gripping the leather seat, straining against his seatbelt as if he could steer the car faster out of sheer will.

Draco scoffed, “it’s the latest model of flying cars, of course it can. The car is not the problem.” He was insulted that Mattheo would even question the calibre of cars they kept at the Malfoy Manor. They borrowed it from his father without asking, but he didn’t think he would mind.

“We already went over this,” Theo grit his teeth, trying to hold on to the last dregs of his patience. He drove the car over the roofs of buildings and clouds blurred past them. He was going as fast as he could without compromising their safety. “If we let you behind the wheel, you will drive us all straight to a tree. You can’t have a wedding if your corpse is busy rotting in a tree, huh?”

“I’m not some foolish Gryffindor who would do that!” Mattheo argued.

Blaise sucked in his breath, tired of having to play peacekeeper. “Arguing would not get us to her any faster, okay Matty? When has Theo ever let you down?”

Lorenzo chimed in, also eager to diffuse the tension. “What’s next, mate? You just roused us all out of bed to rescue your girl the night before your wedding, what happens when we get there?”

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, “I only roused Theo then Draco offered his father’s car when he overheard us. The rest of you tossers invited yourselves.”

“That’s besides the point,” Enzo continued knowing Mattheo would do the same for any of them if they ever needed help. “What’s your genius plan?” 

“When we’re close enough to the estate, I’ll signal y/n. She says she has a plan to escape and we’ll swoop in as the getaway driver.”

“Sounds simple enough when you say it like that,” Enzo mused.

“But daddy I love him!” You declared, losing track of how many times you’ve had to defend your fiancé to your father.

“He’s the Dark Lord’s son-” he begins, his favorite line whenever he tried another argument to dissuade you from you marriage plans.

“Father, I’m having his baby!” You spat out, tired of his same old lines. That shut his mouth.

Your news drained the color from his face as he opened his mouth again to say something and closed it. This was going to bring shame to the family name. He was too stunned to speak.

You tried to hold it in, but burst out laughing. Your father was a man hardened by business and the ways of the world. He was not easily shaken so this reaction was priceless.

“Oh father!” You held your stomach to control your laughter. “You should see your face! I was just joking! See, there are worse things that could happen? Father, I promise this is not as bad as you think. He is nothing like the Dark Lord. He’s doing his best to be better than him.”

Your father mumbled incoherently as if holding back a string of curses. “Dear child, you will send me to my funeral! These white hairs will turn even whiter than snow.”

“Please,” you approached him, holding his hand. Trying to appeal to his affections, the way you did when you asked for a pony when you were younger. “He’s the one I want, if you could just give him a chance and get to know him.” “What about our family name? It will put us to ruin, think about us,” he responds coldly.

“I’m taking his last name, father. You won’t have to worry about that. My name is mine to do with as I please.” You were losing hope, nothing was getting through to him. You just needed to wait for the signal.

As if you summoned it by your thoughts, you saw a light flash three times and you grabbed your wand from a hidden compartment in your dress. That’s on your father for underestimating you, he couldn’t just lock you in - you were no longer his little girl. You saw the car approach the window and withdrew the wand.

“Well father, I wish you would come around. Come to the wedding tomorrow in peace, the cake is fantastic,” you bid him goodbye with those words and you cast an explosion with your wand, bricks flying and dust spraying through the air. You took one last look at your father as he stood to catch you, but you moved faster.

From the clearing that once formed the east wing of your father’s mansion, you grinned at Mattheo and your friends. 

“That’s your escape plan?” Blaise broke through the silence when the car was near enough.

At the same time, Mattheo cheered, “that’s my girl!”

You shrugged, running towards them and taking Mattheo’s hand. You sat on his lap in the front seat of the car as there was no other vacant seat. But you could hardly complain at the chance to snuggle with him.

“It worked, didn’t it?” You simply said as Theo drove you away from the mansion.

Theo just chuckled and shook his head, “you two are really meant for each other.”

✿ Masterlist

A/N: I was listening to TTPD when this whole scene came to mind. It’s the fastest I've written and uploaded a fic so far.

[navybrat817]

The Dad Diaries: Welcome Home

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky reflects on the first night with his son home and puts his thoughts to paper.

Word Count: Over 1.2k

Warnings: Fluff, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?).

A/N: Welcome to The Dad Diaries! This AU will focus on Bucky and his relationship with his son (and you!) ❤️ Thanks to the beautiful @whisperlullaby for giving this intro a look and assuring me it wasn't garbage, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky stared intently at the open blank journal that sat in the middle of his office desk. He had picked up the pen a few minutes ago, but hadn’t written a single word. Why did he feel stuck? Better yet, what was he thinking by doing this? Reading often came easy to him, but writing? That was something else entirely.

It was also something he wanted to do.

He ran a hand over his face with a sigh and wondered if he should call it a night, crawl into bed with you, and try tomorrow. No, he didn’t want to push it off before he even began. Glancing at the monitor, he heard your voice in his head, a memory of something you told him in the early stages of dating:

The best writing comes from the heart. Write what you and your heart love because no one knows that story better than you.

Bucky had plenty of stories to tell. How he became a hero and a good man after years of pain and darkness. Or how he fell in love with you and became your husband.

And his newest adventure of becoming a father.

He wasn’t sure how to be a dad yet, but he knew he loved his son. That was more than enough to start. And with a smile tugging at his lips, he put the pen to paper.

Hey, Nugget,

My name is James Buchanan Barnes. Most people call me Bucky. Your mom calls me her husband and I’m the luckiest man in the world for that, especially since she gave me the greatest gift I could ever ask for: you.

Your name is James, too. Your mom doesn't know if we’ll call you Jamie or JJ, but I have a feeling you'll hear a bit of both. And one day, I’ll get to hear you call me Dad. Or Dada or Daddy or Papa.

Whatever makes you happy.

He paused in his writing when he thought he heard something on the monitor. His eyes flickered to the screen again and he breathed a little easier when he saw that his baby was still sleeping soundly in the middle of the crib. It wouldn’t stop him from checking on him later, just to be on the safe side.

I’m so glad you’re home. In fact, tonight is your first night in the nursery. I hope you like it here. To quote Ralph Waldo Emerson: “A house is made with walls and beams: a home is built with love and dreams.”

Yeah, your old man likes to read. Maybe you will, too. I even have an original copy of The Hobbit and would love to give it to you when you're older.

Books lined the far wall of Bucky’s office, many of them worn from the amount of times he read them. He made sure Jamie’s room had a reading nook, too. It was one of the only things he asked for when the two of you designed the nursery.

I hope you get enough sleep tonight. Your mom, too. You both did great at the hospital and deserve all the rest you can get.

Would you believe me if I said I was a nervous wreck when I brought your mom in, but tried not to let it show? People call me strong, but I don’t think I ever witnessed true strength until I saw how steady of a rock she was. She blew me away, which didn't surprise me. She amazes me every day.

Hearing your first cry stopped my heart and brought tears of joy to my eyes. After nine months of waiting and talking to your mom’s stomach, you were finally here. And seeing her hold you made me fall in love all over again.

Sorry if that sounds sappy, but it’s true. She looked right at me with happy tears in her eyes and said, “Bucky, look! Look at what we made! It's our little Nugget!” and my heart swelled. She insisted on calling you that and it rubbed off on me. Believe me when I say that you are the luckiest baby in the world to have the mother that you do.

He stopped writing again to glance at his wedding band, smiling all over again. He thought your love filled his heart before, but it overflowed now. It warmed him like nothing else ever could.

You’re probably wondering why I’m writing this since a lot of time will pass by the time you read this. Sometimes I may write to remember things I’m afraid I’ll forget. Other days I’ll write to reflect and get the words out when my mind is too loud. But my hope is that this will be a gift to you.

A bond for the two of us.

As you grow, I’ll fill the pages with the memories of you and our family. I’ll tell you about my past and how it shaped me into the man I am today. How your mom and I met and how I somehow convinced her to fall in love with me. And I’ll be sure to tell you about the day she told me we were going to have you and how that news changed my life for the better.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before he continued.

I also plan to fill this with your milestones. Like your first smile. Is it selfish if I hope to see it first? If not me, your mom. She’d love that. Your first step. Being selfish again, but I hope it’s me you walk toward so I can pick you up and tell you how proud I am. And your first word. I hope it’s Mama.

Though I won’t object if you say Dada.

Bucky chuckled as he imagined the look of betrayal on your beautiful face if your son said “Dada” first instead of “Mama”.

I’m sure some days I’ll have more to say than others. If I’m lucky, I can pass on life lessons and words of wisdom. Some days though I may not say the right thing and I know I’ll stumble along the way as I figure out how to be the best dad to you. I say “best” and not “perfect” because perfection doesn’t exist. Except for you and your mom.

The beauty of it is that I don’t have to go it alone. I’ll have your mom by my side to help guide and protect you and to watch you flourish. And my hope is that you know as you look through the pages how much we love you.

Even on days I may not get it right, I’m your dad, you’re my son, and you’ll always have a home with me and a place in my heart.

I’ll write more when I can, Nugget. Until then, I love you.

Always,

Dad

Bucky set the pen down as he exhaled. It wasn't perfect, but it didn't have to be. It was a start. As long as he put his heart into his words, it would shine from the pages.

And he couldn't wait for all the adventures he’d have with his little Nugget.

I hope you lovelies are excited to take this journey with Bucky. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[wooziorgans]

Woozi as a doctor??? Giving massages? New gose hits hard

— physical therapist!woozi

god he’s SO HOT HELP.

warnings: reader was in a car accident. jihoon definitely violates some,,, things. moderate medical malpractice (getting dicked down during an appointment). unprotected sex. mild ass play. not medically accurate i have no idea how this shit works. DONT TRY N SEDUCE UR DOCTORS!!!

after you hydroplaned on the highway, totalling your car, your insurance (surprisingly) opted to cover your physical therapy.

and by god if you weren’t going milk that opportunity for all it was worth.

that’s how you found yourself at a holistic physical therapy clinic. the highest rated one in busan, being seen by their best doctor.

“doctor lee will see you now.” the receptionist smiled at you. the green walls of the clinic were earthy and warm. the general vibe was quite comforting and pleasant; it’s the kind of place you’d want to get better in. your knee clicks uncomfortably as you walk.

you push the door open to his office, and out of everything you could’ve expected, you didn’t expect to see a young man, barely into his thirties with his sleeves rolled up and rimless glasses sitting on his face. his grown out dark hair frames his face perfectly, and on first impression, the only thing you notice about him is how undeniably handsome he is.

“you must be my four o’clock. y/n?” his voice is low and kind, his smile wide on his face. he speaks with the regions dialect, and though you’re used to it, it makes something inside of you twist. you swallow nervously.

“yes, that’s me.” your own smile is tight.

“i’m doctor lee, but please call me jihoon. the doctor title makes me feel old. have a seat.” he gestures laughing quietly, and you take a seat in the large leather chair. he pulls up a stool to sit next to you. “from what i can see from your chart, you were in a car accident?” jihoon asks carefully.

you nod, unable to look at him. “i see. and you had some torn ligaments that healed, but now you’re having issues with mobility and have some clicking in your left hip and knee, correct?” his voice is so soft and careful, and you can immediately get the impression that he cares about his patients. that’s probably why he’s the top rated doctor in all of busan.

“yeah. uh, i definitely shouldn’t be in this much pain after two months so i went to my doctor and he referred me here.” you laugh nervously. jihoon smiles at you reassuringly.

“well, how about i get you to stand up for me so i can do an assessment and i’ll see what i can do for you?” you nod, standing, and jihoon starts to scan over your body. he immediately starts to take you in, eyes analyzing your lower half. “is it okay if i touch you? just to see your hip alignment?” he asks, crouching down to the ground.

“yeah.” the doctors hands find your hips soon after. he squeezes and pokes, asks repeatedly if the pressure of his touch hurts you at all. his hands move down the side of your legs to your knees where he does the same thing

“from what i can see, your hip alignment is off. same with your knee. it would be a relatively easy fix, but because of your torn ligaments we have to be more careful. i think the best plan of action is to go over some exercises for you to do at home and then we’ll go over what needs to be done when you’re here.” the doctor sits back down on his stool as he gestures for you to take a seat again.

jihoon jumps right into it, directing you in various exercises to help with your mobility. he talks to you the whole time, asking about your accident, what you do for work, if you’ve lived in busan your whole life. you answer him earnestly, still a little shy because of the situation your in.

you never were fond of doctors, and jihoon seems to pick up on that as he keeps the conversation light and comfortable. he moved you to a big table, and has you lay down so he can work on your hip.

“this might hurt. i’m sorry in advance. it should just be a lot of pressure.” his hands press lightly against your hip at first as he lets you adjust to the pressure. then his whole body weight comes down in the same spot, and you yelp loudly, biting your lip as you try not to swear.

he chuckles softly, body still leaning over you so his voice is right in your ear. “don’t worry, this room is sound proof.” you laugh through the pain, but the relief feels almost immediate. your hip isn’t as stiff.

jihoon continues working on you until the end of your session, and when you stand you feel a little lighter. he smiles at you, wishing you well for the week.

and so your first session ends with doctor lee, and you leave his office with a stack of papers and another appointment booked for next week.

session after session with jihoon, your body starts to return to how it was before your accident.

the appointments are comfortable, and after six months, you’re able to joke around with your doctor. maybe it’s because he’s quite young, and you’re young, that his conversation begins to feel natural.

it feels like you’re almost friends, meeting up once a week to hang out while he abuses you in ways that have you cursing and calling him colourful names. he always laughs it off, knows not to take anything you say too personally.

jihoon is a good doctor, but him being hot is posing quite the issue. you can’t help but stare at his exposed forearms when you enter his office. jihoon pretends not to notice, but over the few months he’s been working on you, he can’t help how interesting he finds you. and beautiful.

he thinks you’re beautiful too.

“you’re doing a lot better, y/n.” jihoon smiles at you, and you smile back, feeling the change in your body. you flex your knee as if to test his words, and the bones don’t grind uncomfortably. “honestly, i think we only have about a month left of sessions together. and then you’ll be free of me.” you roll your eyes at him.

“oh no. whatever will i do?” you jest. he laughs.

“don’t go and get yourself injured again just to spend time with me.” he flicks through your chart. “is your back pain getting any better? i thought i was from your hip but it might be something else.” his eyebrows are furrowed, glasses slipping down his nose as he scans over the sheets of paper attached to his clip board.

“it’s migrated lower. i think it’s my tail bone but i don’t know.” you offer. he’s the doctor, but you know your body. jihoon told you that a few sessions in; that your opinion mattered to the direction of your treatment.

“you mind if i check? if that’s the case it’ll be a quick adjustment. it’s possible it got jacked up when you messed up your hip.” he’s teasing you, about to call you old, which is almost ironic considering he’s in his thirties, and you’re not. you just shake your head at him, climbing up onto the table you’ve grown so familiar with.

jihoon presses lightly at the bottom of your spine, carefully pushing your hoodie up to directly feel the contour of your bones. he sighs. “i’m gonna have to move your sweats out of that way to check your tailbone. the fabrics too thick for me to really feel it. this okay?” you feel his fingers hook under the band of your sweats and you nod, humming softly as you push away any and all unholy thoughts you’re having right now.

jihoon pulls both your sweatpants and underwear down, to the middle of your ass. the elastic band keeps them down as two of his fingers trail lower down your back. you shiver, and jihoon does a good job at ignoring it as his fingers dip in between your ass cheeks. he presses down on the tip of your tailbone and you flinch.

“oh, yeah. that’s not supposed to feel like that.” he sighs, gently rubbing over the bone with his fingers. “it’s sticking out too much. i think you dislocated it.”

“y-you can dislocate a tailbone?” you stutter. his fingers are far too low for comfort.

“yes. you said you fell when you were doing your knee exercises. that’s probably how.” jihoon’s fingers graze over the bone carefully, and you shiver again. this causes his fingers to slide further down, tips brushing over the tight muscle of your asshole.

both you and jihoon freeze. he doesn’t know what to do so he removes his hand and says nothing. he cracks his fingers softly. “adjustment time.” he speaks lowly as he places his hand flat on your ass. one of his knees finds itself between your legs as he braces himself to make the adjustment.

its procedure. he’s done this dozens of times before, but something feels different this time. jihoon’s knee presses against the bottom of your ass, dangerously close to your core as he presses down.

the initial adjustment makes you yelp in pain before you laugh it off. “good. one more.” he praises, and if he doesn’t stop talking in that low tone you’re going to end up soaking this table.

the second adjustment rocks your hips into the table, moving your whole body up and then back down. he accidentally grinds you against his knee, and the table, and the sound you make this time is strained and breathy. an involuntary moan falls from your lips as you close your eyes. jihoon freezes again. “y/n? what was that?” he asks carefully. he knows what it was.

“i- uh, i didn’t mean to- fuck.” your voice is suddenly whiny, and that’s when it fully clicks.

“oh.” jihoon briefly removes his hands from your ass, before he palms one of your cheeks. “i see.” he squeezes carefully. you arch into his touch, and though you can’t see him, he smirks.

“i’m sorry, i really didn’t mean to react like that. it’s just—” jihoon’s other hand finds your other cheek as he pulls your sweats down a little further.

you’re still trying to defend yourself, maintain professional integrity for him, even though you’ve been painfully obvious in the way you stare at him and check him out. “please forgive me if i’ve read into this wrong, but i’m under the impression that you’re into me. is that correct?” jihoon leans down, right next to your ear as he speaks. his breath hits your neck and you shiver. you nod. “good, because it’s been absolute torture having to work on your hips with this ass on display for me every single week.” he rubs your ass with both hands, leaning down further to kiss your neck softly.

you whine, leaning into his touch. his lips are soft against your neck as he pecks at it lightly. “jihoon,” you whine softly, hands gripping at nothing.

“do you want this?” he pulls away from your neck to ask you. you whine out a yes, and jihoon flips you over onto your back in one quick motion.

you gasp at the sheer strength of him. it’s not entirely shocking, not when you’ve seen his forearms out at every single appointment. but he’s far stronger than you expected. jihoon slides off the table, towering over you. you lean up, grabbing at the collar of his shirt to pull him down to kiss you.

the kiss is electric, full of tongue and spit as all the weeks of checking each other out come to a head. you tug at the belt loops on his slacks, hands sliding over his leather belt. jihoon chuckles against your lips, pulling you to sit up before he unfastens his belt.

jihoon slides himself in between your legs, thigh pressing against your core as you grind against him. he pulls his belt free from his pants, popping the button on his pressed slacks as he continues to lick into your mouth. you whine against his lips and he chuckles softly, undoing his zipper. he pushes his pants down to his ankles, not bothering to step out of them as he manhandles you back into the padded table.

“lay back for me, baby.” he purrs, lips leaving yours to find your neck again. you do as he says, resting your weight on your elbows so you can get a better look at him. with strong hands, his lifts your legs up, grabbing the band of your sweats which had slipped further down your ass with all the movement. he pulls them down to your knees, pushing your thighs apart as he watches the way your pussy seems to throb in the cool air of his office.

jihoon swears under his breath as he licks his fingers to run them over your folds. you whine, eyes closing and jihoon tuts. “look at me.” you do as he says, watching him as he pushes two fingers inside of you. “so fucking wet for me.” he curses as your body pulls his fingers inside with ease.

he fuck you with two digits, watching your reactions carefully, drinking in every single moan and whine you try to silence. as much as he’d love to make you cum on his fingers, your time is quite constrained with your hour appointment, so he pulls them out, sticking them in his own mouth to lick them clean.

jihoon moans around his fingers, using his other hand to pull his boxers down and give his cock a few lazy strokes. your knees block the view, so you look to the side to see him touching himself. his cock is large and thick in his hand, and your mouth waters at the sight of it.

jihoon smirks, stepping forward a few steps to rub his tip through your folds. you whine, breathy pants the only sound you’re capable of making. “god, just fuck me. please.” you plead, and jihoon smirks again but listens to you.

jihoon lines himself up and pushes his tip in. the stretch burns, so he gives you a few moments to adjust. “so fucking big, my god.” you hiss, lip between your teeth as you adjust to the stretch of him. when you give him a silent nod to go ahead and move, he pushes in further, sheathing his cock in your warm walls.

jihoon hisses, eyes fluttering shut. he pushes his glasses back up on his face, hand anchoring down on the back of your thigh as he slides back out. his face is flushed as he pants. you’re so warm and wet; he won’t last long. “you’re so tight, baby. fuck, you’re gonna kill me.” he pants, thrusting back into you.

he sets a fast pace, the sound of skin on skin echoing through out his office. you’re barely there; hardly coherent as his thick cock drags against your walls, his tip brushing against your spot with each thrust.

jihoon’s thumb flattens down on your clit, and it’s too much. you pull him back down for a kiss, which he returns eagerly, as your walls tighten around him. you moan into his mouth, hand finding his hair to pull him in closer. his thumb rubs circles over the swollen nerve and you shudder as a long moan leaves your lips.

you cum around his cock, the added wetness help him slide into you to fuck you through your orgasm. you tighten around him impossibly more, and that sends jihoon over the edge.

his hips stutter as he cums inside of you. he pants against your mouth, sighing contentedly as he comes down with you. his cock slips out of you once the final drop is milked from his cock, and he plants a delicate kiss to your forehead.

jihoon’s quick to pull his boxers and slacks back up as you catch your breath. he massages your thigh carefully, watching the way his cum slowly leaks out of you and drips onto the padded table. “c’mon baby. let me help you get your pants back up.” your sweats are still at your knees, and you comply, lifting you hips for him to pull them back over your ass. you sigh, unable to look at him.

jihoon leaves you to go to his desk, pulling out a business card and a pen as he writes something down on it. “we’re almost out of time for today, but call me before our next appointment. i’d like to take you to dinner.” he presents the card to you with two fingers, and you take it hesitantly before you nod and get off the table. “i’m serious. it’ll be a date. if you want.” your lack of response seems to have jihoon on edge.

you smile softly at his sudden nerves. “i’d like that. thank you.” you grab your bag and head out of his office without turning back. you don’t see jihoon punch the air in victory.

“well. looks like our time here is up. you’ve been a lovely patient.” jihoon smiles, clip board in hand.

“it’s been a pleasure, doctor lee.” you smirk, finger trailing over his collar bone through his shirt.

“oh, don’t you start.” he scoffs, but he’s smiling at you fondly, cheeks on full display as his eyes crinkle.

“we’re still on for dinner at seven, right?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“of course, love. i’ll pick you up. i was thinking about a movie and maybe a back massage at my place after? if you’re okay with that.” jihoon can’t take his eyes off you.

“you know i’m always down for a back massage from you.” you peck his cheek.

“i swear you just use me for my physical therapy perks.” he rolls his eyes at you fondly.

“maybe i do.” your boyfriend laughs before he kisses you softly.